Another Fate
by The Kryss
Summary: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Pansy visit Narnia for their second adventure in which they meet the Pevensies again along with Prince Caspian, a prince forced to flee his homeland. Narnia and Telmar are in the wake of war, one that only Aslan can win.
1. Magic

**Another Fate**

Chapter 1 Magic

Potions was never fun, but waiting for it to start and for Professor Snape to allow them inside the cold dungeon was just as bad, and sometimes even worse. And of course, this was one of those times.

"If he says one more thing about a weasel, I'll bash his head in with that ceiling," huffed Ron. He, Hermione, and of course Harry, were leaning against a wall opposite of their closed entryway. Ron had been in a bad mood all day. First Malfoy had arranged his breakfast in a shape of a weasel. Second, he and his goons, along with Pansy Parkinson made noises that they thought a weasel would make, which Hermione pointed out was nothing like what a weasel would say. And so it went on. The epic battle of Malfoy VS The Potter Gang.

"Just ignore him," Hermione said. "He's just trying to act all tough to his girlfriend." As she said the word girlfriend, she smiled sweetly and looked right at Draco, her voice loud enough for everybody to hear, which was nearly the entire class.

Harry laughed with the rest of the Gryffindors while Ron kept mumbling insults that wouldn't affect a cat.

"She is _not_ my girlfriend, Granger!"

"Oh really?" Hermione said, savoring the moment. "So, what is she then? You're mistress perhaps? You two are always together and to be honest, the two of you are quiet loud when nobody else is with you."

"I think the word you're looking for, Hermione, is slut. Or maybe hoe, either way," chimed in Dean.

"You arrogant little…" but Draco never got to finish his insult as it quickly turned into a curse.

"Hey!" Harry yelled, jumping away from the wall. "What was that, Draco? Pathetic."

"Ouch!" Ron yelped, glaring at the blond of evilness.

"I'm not doing anything," he snapped.

"Ow!" squealed Hermione. Yes you did!"

And as if on cue, Pansy shot up off the ground where she had been sitting, as if being stung by a bee.

And then the five of them yelled together as another round of sharp pokes and pricks hit them.

The names Malfoy and Potter were yelled at the same time. Looking around, the five realized no one else had a clue what was going on, but found it amusing all the same.

"This doesn't feel like someone doing this for fun," Hermione whispered. "It feels more like magic."

"Hermione," reminded Ron, "in case you've forgotten, we go to the school for the teaching of magic."

"No, not that kind of magic. The kind without wands."

Both Harry and Ron looked at her blankly before they shouted together as a more brutal pain hit them. And then suddenly they were gone.

**Ok. So this is the second adventure of the Hogwarts students in the magical world of Narnia where of course they will meet Peter, Susan, Edmund, Lucy, and most importantly, Aslan. **

**If you would like to read the first adventure, go to my profile and click "A Different Fate".**

**Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR **


	2. Narnia

Chapter 2 Narnia

The moment they had felt the last prick of magic they had left their classmates along with Hogwarts and were now standing on a beautiful seashore. The sun was high in the sky beating its heats down on the three. Trees were behind them and a vast sea before them.

The first thing the children heard was a high pitch scream. Turning to the left, Harry, Ron, and Hermione saw Draco and Pansy splashing around in the water a few yards away from shore.

The scream came again but was cut short as blond hair went underwater and resumed as it came back up.

"Cut that out!" commanded Pansy, already standing up, the water at her chest.

As soon as Draco saw this, he instantly stood up, finding the water only up to his shoulders. And as if he had known this the entire time, he splashed his way to shore behind Pansy, head held high and his eyes deliberately looking straight.

"I could have drowned," he huffed quietly.

"In four feet of water?" replied Pansy, "I doubt it."

Harry and his two friends ran towards them, laughing like lunatics.

"Glad you're alright, mate," snorted Harry.

"I would have saved you, but I don't have my wand with me," chuckled Ron.

"None of us have our wands," Hermione said, still giggling. "We're in Narnia. I'll bet my grades on it."

"Hermione," Ron chided, "you're the only person in the entire world that would even think of betting grades. Normal people would say they'd bet their life or their mother's monkey or something of the sort."

"Their mother's monkey?" Pansy said.

"Or something of the sort!" snapped back Ron.

"Really, Ron," Hermione said. "Mother's monkey?"

"Or something of the sort," he muttered under his breath.

"Well, since we're here, we might as well find out where exactly we are and why exactly we're here," Hermione stated.

"Who made you king?" glared Pansy, her arms across her chest.

"More like a knight, thank you."

"Yeah," grinned Ron. "We're all Knights of Narnia! And High King Peter, King Edmund, Queen Susan, and Queen Lucy! And the Beavers and Mr. Winkle! This is going to be awesome."

After wondering along the seashore for a few hours it was becoming clear that they were on an island and had nearly circled it already. Thirst and hunger started trying tempers and the heat only got warmer. They had nothing to eat but presently found a stream flowing into the sea.

Ron and Draco glared at the rest of them drinking like dogs. There was no way either of them would stoop down to that level, however it only took a few minutes before Ron finally surrendered and got down on his knees and drank the cool fresh water.

"Draco, you wouldn't last out here one day," Pansy stated, glaring at her friend. He was already getting sunburned and was probably dehydrated as well.

"Well, there's no use going around in circles," Harry presided. "Let's go inland and see if we can't find something to eat."

"Like what, Potter? Leaves?" Draco said dryly. First they wanted him to sap up water like a dog and now they were suggesting him eating leaves like an insect. He was a Malfoy, not a monkey.

"Berries or something," Harry answered. "There's got to be something like that here."

"Sure there is. I've read about this kind of thing." Hermione smiled her I'm-A-Know-It-All smile.

"Remember being lost in the forest back at Hogwarts," Ron tried to reason. "We would have starved and died of thirst. No berries anywhere in that place."

"Just spiders, mate. Big huge harry spiders," Harry teased. Ron threw a stick at him but missed.

"Butterflies, it should have been follow the butterflies."

"Stop it. We're going to need a place to stay the night, and out here in the open isn't the place," snapped Hermione.

So inland they went. Trees were almost growing on one another and the only way to get through was to either push them out of the way or to break them. Crunches followed them as they stepped on pinecones and the few spots of dying grass.

Soon the sun was low enough to hide behind the trees and darkness started to consume the dense forest. Just as their spirits were all but gone Ron stopped, staring upward.

"What is now, Ron?" Hermione asked, pure annoyance in her voice.

"What is red and lives on trees?" Ron riddled.

"If there's something you need to say, say it. Don't make us solve stupid riddles. We're not in Ravenclaw, you know."

"Well, look at the trees ahead of us. What is different about them compared to these," he asked, pointing at the trees they were in.

Harry smiled happily as he spotted the difference. Soon Pansy was doing the same; only her smile was smug rather than happy.

"Here's a hint. Bookworms live in them."

"Books don't grow on trees, Ronald," she glared.

"I mean any kind of worm," he corrected with a small blush.

"Dirt."

"No, in the children stories Muggles read."

"No, they live in dirt, on the ground, not Muggle books. Don't you know anything?'

"Apples!" Ron shouted, very irritated.

"What do apples have to do with anything!" she shouted back.

"Stop your bickering, you two," Harry intervened. "Apples live on trees. No apple trees here but there are apple trees ahead of us, so let's get a move on."

It didn't take long before the five of them were stuffing their faces with red juicy apples. And it didn't take long before the sun was all but gone as well and soon they stumbled out of the dense forest and into an orchard full of apple trees.

"So, the orchard has grown into the forest," Hermione mused, pondering something in her mind. "That means this place has been deserted for years. It also means we must be close to a house or something to stay the night."

"Stay the night out here?" gulped Ron, as a bunch of crows took off from trees overhead and flew steadily away from the intruders.

"We'll have to," Pansy said, "if we don't find this house or whatever. Besides, it's getting cold. A fire might be good to have as well."

"Oi!" hissed Ron, "Quiet. I hear something."

The five stood very still, holding their breaths, trying to hear what Ron had. A minute passed by without anything.

"Wait, I heard it too," whispered Hermione. "Come on, but quietly," she cautioned.

They walked slowly closer to where Ron and Hermione had said they heard the noises coming from. It was easier to be quiet in the orchard since there were no pinecones on the ground and the grass seemed green and alive.

"It's no use," they heard someone say.

"Then where do we look?" asked a younger voice. "The boys need wood. We're in a forest so what's the problem?"

"This won't start anything."

The closer the five came to the voices the more familiar they became. Slowly, they inched their way, listening to the two voices talk and bicker amongst themselves.

"Harry," Ron whispered, "I have to sneeze."

"Don't."

"I have to."

"Hold it!" Harry hissed.

"I don't think I can."

"Ronald, I swear," warned Hermione, but at that moment Ron sneezed and it wasn't a little one.

"Who's there?" yelled the first voice. "Show yourself!"

"Weasley, you're just as bad as a Muggle," scoffed Draco. "Stop that buzzing."

"I'm not buzzing," Ron said crossly.

"Something is."

Ron looked at Draco and nearly fell over backwards. He scrambled away from Draco, his eyes huge.

"What!" barked Draco as quietly as possible.

Harry, Hermione, and Pansy looked at Draco while backing away.

"Don't move," ordered Pansy.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"You're right underneath a hornet's nest."

**Who are the voices and where are the five Hogwarts students? Find out next time my internet is up and running. TTFN: Ta-Ta For Now **

**Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR**


	3. Meeting of Old Friends

Chapter 3 Meeting of Old Friends

"A hornet's nest?" gulped Draco, his face paling if that was even possible. Slowly he looked up and true to her word, the buzzing came from yellow and black flying insects. When he looked back at the others, his eyes were bulging out and without any warning Draco ran past the others screaming.

Without further prodding, the four students followed Draco, passing the last few apple trees in the orchard before reaching the end which only left a couple of yards from an ancient wall. But that wasn't what stopped Draco in his tracks.

Looking to their right they saw a bow ready with an arrow pointed right at them. Then, as it dawned on them who it was holding the weapon wide smiles crossed all but Draco's face.

"Susan!" Hermione exclaimed. "Or should I say, Queen Susan. You are going to put that bow and arrow down, aren't you?"

"Hermione? It's really you?" Susan asked as she lowered the bow. Holding the bow made Susan think about the bow she had gotten from Father Christmas a year ago before Narnia was be-rid of the White Witch. That bow had been perfect, the complete opposite of this one.

"Hermione, Ron, Harry! Pansy!" came the second voice, Queen Lucy as she ran into Hermione with a big hug, forgetting Draco entirely.

"Where did you go? You never came back after the ceremony. We were all wondering where you were but Aslan said not to. That you had done your part."

"Last time we had Mr. Beaver to help us out," Ron said. "I don't suppose he's with you?"

"Sorry," Lucy replied.

"What about Peter and Edmund?" Harry piped in.

"Come on, we'll take you to them," Susan said. "We figure this wall was once a wall to a great castle. We found where the Great Hall would be. It must have been built ages ago but I don't remember any ruins in Narnia."

"There wasn't any," Pansy said thoughtfully.

"I'm so glad to see all of you again," Lucy said, meaning every word.

"I'm glad to see you too," Hermione replied, a grin in place. "Susan, where did you get that bow?"

"I found it by the well. I don't know how long it will last or even if it actually works. The string is about to snap any minute and I think I almost broke the bow in half."

"The well?" Pansy asked.

"The well is beyond the wall further away from the orchard," Lucy answered, skipping happily beside Hermione and Susan.

"Susan! We need wood," called out a voice that everyone assumed to be Peter's. "Anytime you're ready, Dolly Daydream."

"Oh shut up," snapped Susan playfully. "Look who we found."

Instantly Peter and his younger brother Edmund jumped to their feet as their eyes took in the sight before them.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione," started Peter.

"Draco and Pansy," finished Edmund. "How did you get here?"

"We were supposed to be in Potions but instead we ended up here," said Draco as if that explained everything.

"Potions?" Lucy wondered.

"It's a class at Hogwarts, the school we go to," explained Pansy who had always liked Lucy.

"It's the worse class ever and taught by the worse teacher ever," groaned Ron.

"Snape's not that bad," Pansy contradicted.

"We were supposed to be going to our schools and we were waiting for our trains to come but then we felt something poking us and then we ended up somewhere on this island," Lucy recalled. It was obvious that she didn't miss going to school anymore than the Hogwarts students.

"We still need wood for a fire, you know," Peter said, glaring at his sisters.

"If we had our wands there wouldn't be a need to find wood," Ron said. "I wish Narnia would let us keep them. They'd come in handy."

"Are you that incapable of surviving without your wand?" Hermione glared, but Ron found the hint of a smile in her eyes. For whatever reason, Ron had a feeling Hermione liked arguing with him. Why she would, he would never know. As Professor Bins had once said, there were some mysteries not even time can unravel.

"Maybe I am. After all, I am a wizard."

"If you're a wizard, you're a very bad one," Hermione laughed, her thick brown hair blowing in her face and her hand brushing it aside, just to have yet another strand of hair in her face.

"I'm not a Muggle and I don't know anything about them. All I know is if I have my wand, I'm as good any other wizard. Maybe even better."

"Even with your wand you end up failing. And Muggles in some ways are better. They don't need silly sticks to solve their problems. When they need a fire, they get wood."

"Fine, I'll help with the wood finding," Ron sighed, hoping that was what she wanted.

Once the fire was started and strongly ablaze, Ron slumped against the ancient wall as if he had done a hard day's work, which he never had. He had been surprised at how fast the darkness had settled in, pushing the light away and blowing it out. The only shadows came from the fire and made even the friendliest of faces look dark and possessed. Draco, however, didn't seem to change. He was sitting the furthest from the fire and only a little bit of light touched him.

"Doesn't this seem…weird?" Peter asked.

They had all eaten plenty of apples and had tried roasting them as well, but it made the apple too hot to eat and when it finally cooled down it tasted horrid. Ron, as usual was the last to finish, still crunching on his last apple.

"What do you mean," he asked with food in his mouth. He heard Hermione sigh and saw that she was biting her lip so she wouldn't say anything.

"I don't know. I just feel like somehow I know this place."

"Really?" Pansy asked. "So do I. But there were no ruins in Narnia and this place has been in decay for decades or centuries."

"I know," Peter sighed. "But the feeling is there all the same."

"Well," ventured Harry, "if you do know this place I'm sure there is some way we can find out. Is there a passageway or a particular room that you remember? We could try to find that."

"It's nighttime, Harry," Susan whispered. "I don't think we ought to be wondering around in the dark."

"She's right," informed Hermione.

"Of course she is," Edmund teased in. "She's the law-book itself."

"Oh, I won't be able to sleep even for a moment," Lucy complained. "What if this is a place we do know? Maybe we've lived here before, a long time ago."

"It's only been a year, Lu," Peter cut in.

"Maybe it's hasn't been a year, here," Edmund said. "Maybe in England, but maybe not in Narnia."

"Ed," Peter asked, is voice strange, "what if this is Cair Paravel?"

"I bet it is!" Lucy nearly screamed, jumping up and pulling Peter to his feet. "I bet, if this is the Cair Paravel, then over there were our four thrones." Lucy pointed towards the end of the great hall where, had it been Cair Paravel, their thrones had been, but now were long gone. "And over there would be the door to the treasure room, where we put all of our favorite things."

"Then that's settled," Peter said. "We're going to find that door. It can't be too hard and I doubt anyone could sleep with something like this going around in their heads."

"Well, we might need a flashlight, don't you think," grinned Edmund, and he pulled out his that he had kept in his school bag which he had brought with. Turning it on he said, "The door would be right over here. If you knock on the wall you'll be able to hear it."

Soon everyone was knocking on the wall, the same wall they had been leaning on by the fire, only a few yards further down towards their would-be-thrones. The air was filled with noise, but not the one they were listening for. And before too long, they regrouped.

"That didn't work," mumbled Harry, disappointment in his voice.

"Maybe this isn't Cair Paravel," Draco said, although for some odd reason, he didn't believe himself.

"Wait," Ron said. "What if there was a wall over there," he said, pointing well past the thrones, "and one going that way over there," and he pointed in front of them, towards the orchard. "That would mean the door would be further along this wall."

Ron got up and started walking along the wall, his hand feeling it as he went.

"You mean this was bigger?" Peter asked.

"Yes. Maybe we forgot how big it really was." Ron stopped, looking at the wall then pounding on it. Moving slowly onward he did the same until a hallow thud resounded in the air.

"Ed, I need your flashlight."

As soon as Edmund had given Ron his modern torch, he saw what Ron had seen.

"Peter, we need you," Edmund hollered.

Then the three of them pulled and dragged the ivy and vines away from a portion of the wall. With a count of three they pushed on the wall, which was really a door. They tried several times without success but then on the fifth try the door gave way.

The boys set the wood aside and peered down into the darkness.

"Well, there were sixteen steps," Peter remembered. "So, why don't you count how many there are, Ed?"

"One, two, three…"

"I don't think I can wait any longer," Lucy whispered to the girls.

"Me neither," Hermione whispered back.

"…fourteen, fifteen, sixteen!" shouted Edmund. "There's sixteen steps down here! C'mon!"

"Let's go," Peter breathed as he raced down the old but familiar steps.

"Peter, look!" Edmund exclaimed. "It's here. Everything is here!"

Looking around, the Hogwarts students saw what seemed to be from out of book, or as Hermione said, out of a Muggle movie. Gold and diamonds, rubies, jasper, crystal, and all sorts of shiny gems glittered the ground and tables and several chests. Armored statues stood their ground although some had dropped their swords.

Quickly Lucy went over to the center of the room towards a beautiful golden chest and opened it.

"That was easy," she giggled.

"So was mine," Susan laughed.

"It's all here. My favorite dress. It's quite big now isn't it?"

"Yeah," Edmund grinned, "You were older years ago than you are now, years later."

"Yeah, everything is in my chest as well," Peter said softly. He grabbed something and pulled it out. It was his sword. With one swift movement, Peter had taken out his blade. It looked like new, just as it had when he and his siblings had been kings and queens.

"I knew we shouldn't have taken our things with us when we went to the cave that brought us back to school," wined Ron.

Lucy had her dagger and her small diamond bottle of the liquid that would heal almost everything. Susan was fingering her arrows and admiring her bow. Just like with Peter, the girl's gifts were just as new.

"My tomahawk, I don't suppose, is anywhere down here?" Ron asked, trying not to look too disappointed.

"I know, mate," Harry sighed, "I miss my flail."

"And I miss my medieval crossbow," Hermione added.

"Now I feel like a king again," Peter firmly said, a smile in place. "Now, let's have some sleep and we can figure out what's happened and why we're here tomorrow."

"What's wrong, Susan?" Lucy asked.

"My ivory horn, it isn't here."

"You must have left it in your saddlebag the day we left," Lucy said.

"It was my favorite gift, but I suppose my bow and quiver of arrows will do just fine."

She smiled, gripping her bow, her quiver of arrows already on her back, and guided Lucy up the stairs.

"We're in Narnia for sure," Harry said.

"But the question is," Ron went on, "_when_?"

**Why are the children in Narnia again, and what has happened to Cair Paravel? Again, tune in next time my internet is up and running.**

**Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR**


	4. Saving of the Dwarf

Chapter 4 Saving of the Dwarf

"What a splendid night that was," moaned Ron.

Once the nine of them had explored the treasure room and took what they needed or desired, which was mainly just their gifts from Father Christmas, Susan ordered them up the stairs and to bed at once. Since they were all feeling tired from the draining adrenalin and the fact that they had spent a good deal of time outdoors walking around an island, no one complained and they soon feel asleep.

But sleeping outdoors in nothing but their everyday clothes and only each other for warmth, it was a very uncomfortable sleep and they all woke up too early in the morning on the cold hard ground. Since there was no use in trying to get back to sleep they all got up, Edmund and Ron rather cranky.

"It could have been worse," Peter yawned.

"Well, at least there's breakfast," Susan said, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"You mean apples," Edmund objected, "not breakfast. I could go for some real hot cakes about now."

"Well, we haven't got any hot cakes, only apples and at least that's better than nothing," Susan snapped back.

"Well," Lucy said, stifling a yawn, "at least we know not the cook them."

"I still don't like it," mumbled Edmund to himself, but nonetheless he started munching on apples, just like the rest of them.

"I've got it!" Hermione said, making everyone stop eating, turn and look at her.

"I understand why Cair Paravel is in ruins, but it's only been a year. You see, it's been a year in our time, Hogwarts time I mean, but not here. Remember when we went back through the wardrobe. No one had thought the wiser because only seconds had gone by."

"Can't you just tell us instead of confusing us," grumbled Ron, taking a big bite out of his fourth apple.

"Months had gone by in Narnia, but when we came back to Hogwarts, barely a minute had gone by. Narnia time goes by much faster than Hogwarts and England and everything, so even though it's only been a year our time, it could have been easily hundreds of years Narnian time."

"That makes sense," agreed Susan.

"Glad that someone understood that speech. It was almost as boring as Professor Binns," Ron said, glaring at Hermione and Susan.

"It makes sense," Lucy said. "All Hermione said was that Narnia time goes faster than our time. That's why it's been hundreds of years here, but only one year back home."

"Oh," he said, scratching his red scalp.

"We've got to get off this island," Draco drawled.

"We can swim across the river to the other side," Harry ventured.

"Not all of us," Peter objected. Of course he could swim, but by all of us, he meant Edmund and Lucy.

"Besides, we don't know if there's a current," Susan added.

"We could always throw Draco and Pansy in first," Ron said with a grin.

"You wouldn't dare," Draco threatened, but he walked over to Pansy and stayed close to her.

Even though they had yet to reach a conclusion on how to cross the river safely, they all headed out of the wood. By the time they could see the water, the sun was shining just above the tree tops.

"Hold it," whispered Harry, putting his hand up.

"What's wrong, mate?" Ron asked.

Harry pointed towards the river. Coming slowly closer and more into view was a boat. Two men were in it, one was rowing. The man who wasn't rowing was holding a squirming bundle. The men looked like they were soldiers, each wearing a silver helmet.

"Hurry up," said the soldier with the bundle. "This has got to be just as good, let's just get it over with."

"Maybe a little further…"

"No! I mean, no. This looks deadly enough," said the first soldier. The second nodded his head and stopped rowing, in plain view of the children, but since they were still within the shelter of the trees, the soldiers couldn't see them.

The soldier with the bundle stood up and unwrapped a blanket and threw it aside, revealing a dwarf. The dwarf struggled with all his might, but it was in vain. The soldier held the dwarf out of the boat and over the water.

"You sure he'll drown?" he asked.

"Of course he will, just drop him already!"

No sooner did the soldier drop the struggling dwarf than an arrow whizzed by his head. With a muffled cry of surprise, the soldier fell overboard and swam to the nearest bank.

"Garn! Where are you?" And with a jump, the other soldier jumped into the water and began swimming towards his companion.

Ron saw that Susan was lowering her bow and Hermione took out the arrow that was in the bow Susan let her have, the one by the well. Then he looked to Peter. The next moment Ron and Peter had jumped into the river and were swimming to get a hold of the dwarf.

Seconds passed by and neither the boys nor the dwarf resurfaced. Hermione started fiddling around with her hair, her eyes pinned on the water where the two boys had gone under. Susan held Lucy close to her, both of their eyes scanning the river.

Harry couldn't forget the last time Ron had gone into a river. It had been a year ago back in Narnia when he, Ron, Peter, Hermione, Susan, Lucy, Mr. Winkle, and the Beavers had been racing to get to the other side. They were being chased by wolves who worked for the White Witch. Ron hadn't jumped far enough and had nearly drowned. Of course once he had been rescued he had said he couldn't swim.

Then suddenly three heads emerged, gasping for breath. Ron and Peter swam back to shore, Peter helping Ron occasionally and holding the dwarf firmly; making sure his head was above the water.

Once ashore, Hermione flung herself at Ron, too relieved that he was alright. Harry could tell she had been thinking about the same thing.

Peter lay the dwarf down and Edmund cut the ropes away with his pocket knife.

A few moments passed before the dwarf was done coughing up water and was breathing normal again. Then looking up at his rescuers he said, "I suppose I should say thank you, but I'm not helpless you know. I could have figured something out."

"Sure you could," mumbled Ron. Then a little louder, "I don't know if I was imaging things but, when you were in the water, you seemed to have been drowning."

Rolling his eyes, the dwarf stood up and responded with he would have thought of something.

"You haven't a mind to invite me to breakfast do you," said the dwarf, wringing out his long redish beard.

"Not unless you want apples," Lucy said apologetically.

"We'll, I'm starved. Getting so close to death really gets you an appetite."

"So you admit that we saved your life," Ron said.

"Never said I was going to die," came the dwarf's reply.

"What did you do? Why were they going to drown you?" Draco asked. Pansy hit him hard in the ribs with her elbow, but his face was still eager to hear the answer.

"I'm a dangerous criminal, of course!" the dwarf said happily, a broad smile on his face.

"Why?" Lucy asked.

"Before you start bombarding me with questions, why don't we move that boat out of view. It wouldn't be nice if some other soldiers see it. It's best they think the ghosts have devoured everything."

"Ghosts?" Lucy asked, shuddering.

"Oh, yes. It is said that ghosts inhabit this place and dwell in the wood here. Oh, it is said that there are thousands of them." Then with a pause the dwarf asked timidly, "You're not ghosts are you?"

"Of course not," laughed Lucy.

"Didn't think so. You're much too pretty to be of such things."

This compliment made Lucy blush a deep shade of red, the color of Ron's hair.

"I wonder if we'd all fit inside this boat," Edmund wondered out loud. "It would be much easier to move if we could just row it."

"Ed," Peter said, "There are nine of us, and that's not counting the dwarf."

"So, nine and a half," laughed Edmund.

"I'm as much a number as you!" the dwarf declared.

"You're only three feet tall," Ron stated as if the dwarf would have never known how tall he might be.

"Hmf…"

It didn't take long for the ten of them to pile into the boat. There was no room and Lucy had to sit on Susan's lap. Peter took charge of the oars and rowed the boat out of site from the mainland and around the island. The boat was so low in the water that a couple of times Peter hit a rock or a sandbar. But finally they reached their destination, the other side of the island, and everyone piled out. Peter and Harry pulled the boat onto shore so it wouldn't drift away.

"So," began the dwarf, staring at the children, "what brings you to this enchanted place, if you're not ghosts?"

"You tell us your story and then we'll tell you ours," Peter said firmly.

"But I asked you first!"

"But we saved your life," Ron put in.

"I would have thought of something!" roared the dwarf who was now red in the face.

"We never said there are no ghosts, just that we're not ghosts," Peter said with a wicked smile. "We can leave, we do have a boat, and leave you to the ghosts."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"You'd think of something," Ron grinned. "Maybe ghosts don't like dwarfs, but Nearly Headless Nick doesn't seem to mind our charms teacher, who happens to be a dwarf."

"Fine," surrendered the dwarf. "I'll tell you my story."

They walked far enough inland so that they had grass to sit on, but close enough to the river so that the sun could warm them up.

"Where to start?" mumbled the dwarf, stroking his beard.

"Well," he started, "I'm a messenger of King Caspian."

"Who?" came nine voices.

"King Caspian the Tenth, King of Narnia, long may he rein!"

With the blank looks on everyone's face the dwarf tried again.

"He's the king of Narnia, well, that is he ought to be. Right now he's only the king of us Old Narnians."

"Old Narnians?" Hermione asked.

Realizing that none of the children understood a word he was saying, he stopped, took a deep breath, and blew it out slowly.

"I'll have to start from the very beginning and it'll take some time…"

"That's fine," Pansy said, "we seem to have a lot of time, if nothing else."

Taking another deep breath and exhaling, the dwarf muttered, "This is going to be a long day."

**Sorry it took so long. I was out hunting. I know this is a boring chapter, but it'll speed up soon, promise. Until next time: TTFN-Ta Ta For Now**


	5. The Dwarf's Story

Chapter 5 The Dwarf's Story

"It all starts in Narnia, but not where the Talking Beasts, as you humans say, dwell, but where an evil and cruel want-to-be king, Miraz rules, past the wood and mountains and everything past the mountains to the very sea, but still in Narnia. Miraz, the brother of King Caspian the Ninth, be rid himself of his noble brother, so says his son, King Caspian the Tenth, and all loyal to the true king vanished quickly after.

"Many years ago, probably as long ago as you," he gestured towards Peter, "were born, the tenth king of the Telmarines was born but soon after, his parents died. No one dared question how, but many didn't have to. And so, a power driven moron who had no sons, or any children, of his own was left to care for his nephew. Not that he did much caring.

"And that is why Prince Caspian, since that is what he was called then, heard the stories of Old Narnia and the creatures that dwell deep in its very heart."

"Creatures like you?" asked Lucy.

"Um, I don't reckon I'm a creature, but, sure. I guess humans can call us dwarfs that, for now.

"But anyway, Prince Caspian heard the tales of old as a young child and dreamed about it every night, wishing and hoping it was true.

"But Miraz found out that his nephew was being told this, for he feared, if nothing else, the Old Narnian stories, of us, the Knights, Kings and Queens, and Aslan Himself.

"So, Prince Caspian thought he had heard the last of Old Narnia, but as fate would have it, his tutor was none other than a dwarf, well half dwarf. Many pure dwarfs would be very angry, and so was I, but since King Caspian loves him, I'll try my best not to hate him."

"It's not like he had any choice in the matter of his lineage," Edmund said, glaring at the ginger dwarf.

"Yes, well, anyway, his tutor told him many stories in secret and taught him many things. However, what he taught was according to Miraz's liking, but the stories he told his dear prince was nothing of the sort.

"Then, not many weeks ago, Miraz had a son. Since, childless before, he would much rather have someone related sit on the throne than a stranger, but with a son, no one else would do to sit upon the throne than his son, not his nephew. So, he would most assuredly get rid of Prince Caspian.

"His tutor knew of the crazed king's, for he had crowned himself King of Narnia," and the dwarf spat on the ground, a disgusted face greatly distinguished, "new born son, and knew of why Prince Caspian was an orphaned boy. He hastily woke up his prince, told him instructions on how to find us, Old Narnains, and gave him two gifs. One was a small pouch of gold, but the other was far greater than any gold could buy, the horn of Queen Susan."

"That's where your horn is!" Lucy squealed, clapping her hands.

"Too bad he didn't find my tomahawk," muttered Ron.

"Get off it," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Anyway," started up the dwarf again, glaring at the two boys, "He gave Prince Caspian those two gifs, and then sent him off. The prince rode along for a while, deep into Narnia, in fact, almost to Archenland. But then his horse got spooked and took off in a mad run that eventually nearly killed Prince Caspian."

"Is he alright?" asked Lucy?

"Of course he is!"

"Stop interrupting," scowled Edmund.

"And that is how I, Trumpkin, and my two friends, Nikabrik and Trufflehunter came to know him."

"I nearly forgot how weird Narnian names could be," chuckled Ron. Draco nodded, his face sporting a wide grin.

"Your names are quite odd, if I may say so myself!" retorted Trumpkin, the dwarf. "Peter, Susan, and the other names of the humans that used to rule Narnia, very strange indeed."

"He didn't mean anything by it," apologized Hermione, a death glare boring into Ron.

"Do you want me to finish this story or not?" demanded Trumpkin, trying to calm his temper.

"Yes!" came Peter and Harry at once.

"Than do be quiet, please.

"Nikabrik didn't want the human to live for fear he would either kill us or betray us. Trufflehunter disagreed and so did I once we had treated him as a guest. Only the worst of varmint would kill a guest.

"So, we took care of him. Once we learned his story, Trufflehunter became ecstatic, wanting him to be our king, the King of Narnia. Nikabrik didn't like the idea. In fact, it took a bit for me to warm up to the idea myself, but Trufflehunter is right. Narnia was never right unless a Son of Adam sat upon the throne.

"Of course we couldn't keep the news to ourselves, could we? No! So for the next few days we, along with Prince Caspian, went around Old Narnia and told of the great news. Many were very excited, and willing him to be king at once, but others, like me, had to warm up to the idea. We don't want something to be king unless it has the making of one."

"But, he was going to be king anyway, if Miraz hadn't had a son," butted in Ron.

"Yeah, so obviously," added Edmund, "he had the makings of a king."

"Anyone can be born into the line of kings, but blood does not make you one, like in Miraz's case."

"Then what?" asked Pansy.

"Then, once everyone had agreed that he would become our king, we needed to figure out how. We can't have a king in hiding all our lives. How kingly would that be? The Cowardly King? Ha!

"So, we held a meeting at Dancing Lawn. However, just as we had decided that the meeting should come before the banquet, and just as King Caspian was about to give his speech, we smelled something, well, the beasts did anyway."

"What was it?" Ron asked, not being able to stop himself. He looked apologetically at the dwarf.

"It was none other than King Caspian's, by now many had started calling Caspian the King of Narnia, tutor! He had found us by his feeble magic and had also come with a warning. Miraz had found out that his nephew had fled and his wrath had forced his soldiers into the wood, into Old Narnia! For no matter how much they feared the stories, they feared their king much more.

"So, we all went to the best place to go, Aslan's How, the most magical of all places."

"I don't remember there being an Aslan's How," stated Peter.

"You don't seem to know much, now do you? Ever since the stories of the resurrection of Aslan, there has been an Aslan's How. In fact, it is a cave; well most of it is anyway. And on the walls are pictures of lions.

"So, there we went, to Aslan's How, and there did Miraz's army follow us. We had little choice but to wage battles, but only battles. We have nothing great enough for a war. But no matter how hard we tried or how perfect our tactics were, or how organized our battle plans had been drawn up, we were always on the losing end.

"So, King Caspian's tutor told him that there was no better time to use one of his gifts. He was to blow Queen Susan's horn, for legend says that if you blow of that horn, strange help will come. But you are to only blow it in your greatest need.

"We all agreed it was necessary, even though Nikabrik and I didn't believe in any of the old stories. Before he blew it, King Caspian sent two of us out to seek this strange help. He sent one to Lantern Waste, where it is said that the first kings and queens of Narnia first found Narnia, and he sent me to Cair Paravel, where Aslan would likely be, since he is the Emperor across the Sea and all.

"Well, for being foolish and trying a shortcut, I got caught. Luckily the ones who caught me brought me to their just as foolish ruler, under Miraz of course. This foolish ruler decided, instead of stabbing me right then and there like a sensible man would, he wanted me to be left to the ghosts instead.

"That's why I was in a boat about to be drowned," but just before Ron could say anything, Trumpkin cried, "but I would have thought of something!"

"Sure you would," mumbled Ron under his breath. "Sure you would."

**A prince forced to flee for his life, a tutor who is half human half dwarf, and a story about "Old Narnia"? How does this bring the children back and what are they to do if Narnia and/or Old Narnia already have a king? **

**Find out when the next chapter appears: Stories, Duels, and Nicknames**

**Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR**


	6. Stories, Duels, and Nicknames

Chapter 6 Stories, Duels, and Nicknames

"Well, I told you my story, so now it is time for you to tell me yours."

"Well, it's not nearly as long or exciting as yours," warned Peter.

"A story is a story no matter how long or boring it may be," sighed Trumpkin.

Glancing at one another, the children wondered who would be the first to speak up. Finally, after a few moments of awkward silence, Peter did.

"Well, our story is short and boring, depending on where you'd like us to start."

"Meaning?" asked Trumpkin.

"Well, I'll give it a go, and if need be I'll tell you the long version."

"Peter, show him your sword. That might help," suggested Edmund, a smirk crossing his face. Draco and Pansy's face looked quite the same.

For a moment Peter just looked at Edmund, but deciding it might indeed help, he unsheathed his sword and held it with both hands.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked Trumpkin.

"Of course I do. It's a sword. What else would it be?" the dwarf said, irritatedly.

"It's not just any sword," spoke up Edmund. "Look at the blade closely."

"Humph," was his reply, but the dwarf looked all the same, though if he knew what the sword was he didn't let on.

"This is the sword from the Golden Days of Narnia," Peter clarified. "In fact, all the weapons and fine things we have right now are from those days. In those days, we were kings, queens, and knights."

"So you're saying that you all are hundreds of years old, yet you look no older then children? Likely! I want truth, not fiction!"

"You want proof? Would you, humble dwarf, like to challenge mere children to a duel?"

Trumpkin looked shocked. Trying to find a loop whole or way for the children to cheat, he hesitated, and then finding none, he nodded his head. "What do I have to lose?"

"Here's a sword," Draco said, grabbing Edmund's and giving it to Trumpkin.

"Here, Ed," and Peter handing his sword to his little brother.

"What's this for?"

Whispering into Edmund's ear, Peter said, "It might be a better match if you fight. If you lose it won't hurt as bad and when he does, he might not want any more proof."

Shrugging, Edmund took the sword and the two started circling. Edmund hadn't touched a sword in a year, but already he was feeling more like a king and less like a child. His brain started working with strategies and attacks that he could do.

Then, as quick as lightening, Trumpkin made the first move, Edmund meeting his blade. Trumpkin made the first attacks, and Edmund blocked each attempt, although it was much harder then dueling a human. He had to aim very low in order to hit the dwarf and not flat out miss him. It was rather awkward.

"Oh come on!" Lucy shouted, waiting for her brother to show the little dwarf who they really were.

Susan looked quite pale; her thoughts back to the time Edmund had nearly been killed by the White Witch while doing pretty much the same thing.

Hermione looked a lot like Susan, only she just wanted it to be over, but thankful it was Edmund this time, and not Harry or Ron.

Harry and Ron were yelling out encouraging words and directions, none of which Edmund took. Draco, Pansy, and Peter were doing the same.

The dwarf did this and the dwarf did that, but Edmund only blocked. Considering the height difference, Edmund had to make very different calculations and tactics. The sword still felt a bit foreign to him, but when at last Edmund saw his chance, everything changed.

His sword flew in the air swiftly and masterly directed. His attacks never fell short or too high. His feet moved with speed and skill. However, now that his sword felt like second nature, he was having fun. There would be no point in stopping this duel now. Why not let the dwarf feel like he was making progress?

So with a smile at his friends, he gave Trumpkin an opportunity and the dwarf took it. Edmund blocked, then attacked a little, gave Trumpkin another opportunity, and blocked some more.

His opponent was getting better, and had not been by any means, bad with a sword. In fact, he was probably one of the best dwarfs with the sword any of the children had ever encountered. Edmund jumped, ducked, sidestepped, hopped backwards, and advanced, Trumpkin doing much the same thing.

Edmund saw that Trumpkin was sweating and his breathing was fast and labored. Feeling slightly let down, Edmund quickly finished the fight. Trumpkin's sword flew out of his hand and, to the surprise of everyone, including himself, Edmund caught it.

"You're…you're…you can't be," muttered the beaten dwarf.

"I can tell you're very good with a sword, and I doubt many people have ever beaten you before, but really, you just got outmatched by me. And I'm not even fifteen yet."

"If you want, you and Susan here can do an archery match," suggested Peter, his grin still on his face.

"That's so mean," Hermione puffed. "The poor little dwarf."

"What! Who said that! Who?" Trumpkin twirled around to face Hermione.

"I wouldn't get too offended quite yet," Draco said. "There's got to be a better time for that. Besides, she's just Granger."

"Yeah, and you're just Malfoy," Ron retorted without even thinking.

"Come on. We're in Narnia," Harry pleaded. "Remember, the place where we all actually for the most part, get along?"

"True," Pansy said. She rather liked Hermione, as long, of course, as they weren't back at Hogwarts.

"There, see that red apple on the left, the one right next to the dead tree?" Susan asked.

"That one?" Trumpkin asked, pointing too far down for it to be the correct apple.

"No, that one," Susan said, raising his arm higher. "Oh, _that_ one."

"Too far?" Draco teased.

"Not if she can hit it, it's not."

"Heads or tails?" Peter asked.

"What?"

"Heads or tails?" and Peter took out a coin from his pocket.

The dwarf was very interested in the coin, having never seen one before. He picked heads, since he liked the front of the coin better. And as luck would have it, he won.

Trumpkin readied his bow, pulled the string with a master's touch, and with a _twang_, it went flying straight through the apple.

"Nice one," Harry said, but he had seen Susan with the bow too many times to doubt her.

Susan pulled out an arrow, stringed it, pulled it back and let it go. It soared into the air and hit the apple's stem, making it fall and hit the ground.

Trumpkin's face went pale. His eyes became wide and he slowly walked a bit away from them.

"The stories were true?"

"Of course they're true," Lucy said, as if Trumpkin had just said that grass is green or the sun is yellow.

"I guess that horn was magic after all. Best go and tell King Caspian that no help has arrived though."

"No help?" yelled Edmund. "What do you think we are? Chop liver?"

"If we can out beat you in both the sword and the bow, how can we not be of help?" Ron demanded.

"You're only children!" Trumpkin tried to reason.

"Children that could have let you drown, run you through with a sword, and behead you with an arrow," Pansy muttered to herself.

"We ended up back in England by accident. We had been grown in Narnia, and once back, we became kids again." Peter said. "A year passed and we thought we'd never go back to Narnia. But, right before our train would have arrived to take us all to school, magic happened and before any of us knew it, we ended up on this island."

"When we left, we were exploring a cave," Ron continued. "Somehow, that cave led us back to Hogwarts, and a year later, as we were waiting for Potions with Snape…"

"Professor," interrupted Hermione, "Professor Snape."

"Sure, with _Professor_ Snape, magic happened as well and we ended up on the beach on this island. We're here for a reason. Last time it was to defeat that witch."

"And this time," Peter began, "well, this time might be to help you to regain your country back, to become true Narnians once again."

With a sigh, Trumpkin nodded. "Fine, you can come with and I'll take you to King Caspian. Maybe he'll agree with you."

"Well, our DLF has spoken," Lucy giggled.

"Our what?" asked Trumpkin.

"DLF."

"What's that?"

Lucy looked at Pansy and Hermione and said, "Our Dear Little Friend."

"Well, that's not at all demeaning," mumbled Trumpkin, a scowl on his face, but he started walking, and every followed.

"I wonder what King Caspian is like," wondered Susan aloud.

"Probably taller than our DLF," laughed Draco.

**Find out what happens next as our story continues on Chapter 7 (Title Not Yet Decided.)**

**Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR**


	7. Their Not So Lost Trek

Chapter 7 Their Not-So-Lost Trek

After a few minutes of following Trumpkin, Edmund came up with a better idea. Instead of walking they all piled into the little boat. Peter took out his compass. Heading northwest, Trumpkin steered while the boys took turns rowing. The children were in the boat for nearly half a day, but finally their destination was in sight.

"Well, this is as far as we're going on water," mused Peter, trying his hardest not to be snappy. "Well, come on then, let's get out."

They all clamored out of the boat and onto shore, stretching their limbs as they did. Everything looked very different from what Edmund remembered and he started wondering if his way really was the best way. But he was too tired and too stiff to think about that now.

The sun had set and stars were beginning to peek out, shining brightly and shimmering like gold. The trees that surrounded the children were tall and thick and unknown. Hundreds of years ago they had not existed. The forest wasn't as dense as the one on the island, but its beauty diminished as Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy remembered how masterly crafted the plane had been when they had voyaged the coast of Narnia when Cair Paravel was at its prime.

"How much further?" wined Draco, trying to get all the aches and knots out of his bones. His scowl suggested that he had not enjoyed the boat ride.

"We should be with King Caspian late tomorrow, maybe by breakfast time the day after," Peter said, wondering if he should have listened to Edmund.

"Well, let's get some sleep," Hermione said, stifling a yawn. "The sooner we start out the sooner we'll get to King Caspian."

"If we don't get lost," Harry whispered to Ron.

Within two hours everyone, including Trumpkin, had fallen asleep a little ways from the bank of the river. And within a few more hours, they had all woken up, eaten an apple or two, and had begun their trek.

"This is way too early," mumbled Ron, nearly tripping over his feet as he tried to keep himself awake.

The cold breeze helped, but no one welcomed it. They were all cold already. Hunger, thirst, and stiff joints lingered until late afternoon, the cold breeze only becoming a bit stronger. The trees disappeared and a long plane with rocks and small gofer holes emerged.

"That's it, we're lost," Susan said. "I've never seen this place in my life."

"Sue, as long as we go northwest, we're fine," Peter said, his patience dwindling with each passing hour. "You've seen this place many times, only it looked different."

"Like Cair Paravel," Pansy said, enjoying the walk much more than their journey in the boat. "Better to be lost on land than on sea anyway."

"No," Susan said ignoring Pansy, "we're lost. We should be reaching the River Rush, or at least see it, but there's nothing. Nothing, that is, except more flat plane and holes."

"I suppose you'd want to ask for directions?" Peter said, much louder then he meant to. "Oh, excuse me Mr. Rock, do you know how to get to the Rush?"

"Shut up! You know we're lost, you're just too prideful to admit it!"

"Maybe you'd like to lead, Queen Susan, the Know It All!"

"Maybe I would!"

"Stop it! Stop it right now!" Lucy yelled, a tear rolling down her face. "This isn't helping. If we're lost now, we won't be able to find our way back. At least Peter has a compass. We know which direction we are going and where we need to go."

"She's right," Trumpkin said. He had been thinking the same thing for some time.

Peter glared at Susan, daring her to disagree, but she didn't, although she didn't agree either. Susan just looked away from Peter and took up the rear as the small group continued onward, wherever onward led them.

As another hour passed Peter became tenser, yet more determined to find his way. But when something finally came into view that wasn't a rock or hole, he felt defeated. How could he help King Caspian if he couldn't even find his way to the Stone Table?

"This is a gorge, not the Rush," Susan said pointedly. "Admit it, we're lost."

"Fine, better?" Peter snapped. "We're lost. We're completely and utterly lost!"

"If this continues on, I'm going to swear Percy has somehow come along," Ron said to Harry. "Susan is acting just like him!"

"I suppose you'd be Peter," Harry grinned.

"You do realize we can hear you?" glared Peter.

"Now we do," Ron gulped, his face turning red.

"Maybe this is the Rush," Hermione said. "Perhaps over time the land has fallen away. An earthquake or a landslide could have made it into a gorge."

"If that's so, we're not lost," Draco said, praying that the bickering would stop and that they would reach King Caspian quickly. "Let's find a way down so we can cross it."

"LOOK!" Lucy shouted at once, pointing across the gorge.

Everyone jerked their heads to see what Lucy was pointing at, but there was nothing.

"What Lu?" asked Edmund.

"Aslan! I saw Aslan!"

"Aslan?" Trumpkin asked. "That was probably just some old lion waiting for his supper."

"Aslan is not just any old lion!" Lucy yelled, outraged that someone would have the nerve to slander Aslan like that.

"Calm down, Lucy," Peter said, placing his hand on her shoulder, "he didn't mean anything by it. He doesn't know Aslan like we know Aslan.

"Don't say such things about Aslan," Peter told Trumpkin firmly. "You may not believe the stories, but when we were here last, He wasn't a story and He never will be."

Turning back to his youngest sister he asked, "Where was He?"

"Across there, looking straight at me. He wanted us to follow Him."

"How do you know Aslan wanted us to follow Him?"

"He, I…I just know that's what He wanted."

"Are you sure you saw Aslan?" Susan asked.

"Of course! Don't you think I know Aslan when I see Him! I'm not just a little kid, and you're not a grown up! I saw Aslan."

"Then why didn't any of us see Him?" asked Pansy.

"I don't know. Maybe, maybe you weren't looking," Lucy tried, but she couldn't come up with a better answer.

"Either we go up or we go down," Hermione stated. "We should take a vote."

"Alright," Peter said, "Trumpkin, what do you vote for, up or down?"

"Down. I don't know about Aslan, but I do know if we go down we'll find King Caspian for sure."

"Susan?"

"Sorry, Lucy, but I say down."

Peter turned to Draco. "Down. It's got to be shorter than going up."

"Pansy?"

"Well, I don't know. Maybe you were just looking too hard," she said to Lucy. "I think we should go down."

"Hermione?"

"Down," she said softly, as if scared to hurt Lucy.

"Ed?"

"Well, last time she said she saw something we didn't see she was right. We would have never found Narnia without her and we all acted stupid, me especially. I think we should believe her this time too."

Lucy's sad face turned into a bright smile.

"Oh, Ed, thanks!" And she gave him a tight hug.

"Edmund's right," Harry said, as Peter turned to him. "I vote up."

"So do I," Ron grinned.

"I say we go up," Lucy said.

"I guess a tie wouldn't work, so I'll say down," Peter said. "I'm sorry Lucy, but, well…"

Peter let the sentence slip into the air as they started their way down the gorge, Edmund and Lucy bringing in the rear, Lucy's face filled with silent tears.

Going down was horrible. The gorge was deep and a small fir forest grew, thick as the one at Cair Paravel, along the gorge. Realizing that it would take forever just to do one mile, they all stumbled their way out and went around the forest. This took them much farther than they had wanted, until where they needed to go was nowhere in sight.

Finally they found a way down into the gorge although it was still tiresome and difficult. Looking to the other side of the gorge, their way was by far, much more broken and dangerous. But they all continued and made it to the river's edge.

"If we weren't in such a hurry," Ron said, nearly out of breath, "this wouldn't be so bad. I mean, it is rather nice. Hawks, soft running water, funny flying bugs, and a nice place to rest for a bite to eat are all combined here."

"Perhaps for a picnic," Hermione agreed.

"Or an adventure," Harry piped in.

"We _are_ on an adventure," Draco drawled, rolling his eyes.

"No, we're on a voyage, trek, journey, not on an adventure," Harry corrected.

"And the difference is? Never mind, I don't care to know."

Before too long their walk became more of a climb as the riverside rose higher until finally the gorge made a bend and the children saw a lovely plane stretched out in front of them. There by the horizon flowed the Great River, and over here was where the Fords of Beruna had been but was now accompanied by a bridge with a small town on the other side.

"This is where we fought the Battle of Beruna!" Edmund said, and soon he and Peter were reliving the victory, Trumpkin, Draco, Harry, and Ron listening interestedly.

As the gorge became more level and the walk became easier, their spirits lifted. Before they knew it, it wasn't a gorge anymore but a valley. Smiles flickered on each face. But way too soon, they all vanished.

_Whoosh_!

As all the children were trying to remember what that sound was, Trumpkin yelled, "Down! Get down!" and pushed Lucy to meet the earth.

"Great Scott!" Peter said, alarmed, "Arrows!"

"We need to get out of here," Hermione said, narrowly missing an arrow as she ducked.

"Crawl up the hill," Trumpkin ordered.

When the arrows stopped whizzing past their heads, they got up and ran. And just as they expected, a few more arrows followed them a small ways. When the arrows stopped completely, no one knew, they just kept running until there was no way any one of them could run another yard.

"We…we're…alive…" breathed Ron heavily.

"We have got to stop getting in life and death situations, mate," Harry grinned, taking deep long breaths.

"At least they're only sentries and they're not searching the woods," Trumpkin said.

"Well, our DFL is right," Edmund said, "We're safe now. But that means Miraz has an outpost down there."

"Guess we'll have to follow Aslan now," Lucy said quietly.

There was nothing else to do except turn around and go back where they had come from. The sun was low in the sky as they silently followed the gorge back to where Lucy had seen Aslan.

"I am so stupid," Peter said. "I should have never let us come this way. Your way would have been better," he told Trumpkin.

"I doubt it," said the dwarf. "Had we gone my way, we'd be caught having walked right into their outpost. Besides, it wasn't your idea; it was your brother's."

"I guess I'll take the blame for this one," Edmund said with a grin.

"Gee, thanks, Ed. You're such a life saver, not."

Once they had reached the fir forest on the edge of the gorge, they all stopped and decided to spend the night. By now the sun was almost gone, nothing but a golden sliver in the dark purple sky, turning the clouds a bright pink with dark purple outlining them.

Soon, supper of cold apples had been served and one by one they fell asleep, their spirits just a bit lighter as they knew the following day they'd reach King Caspian.

**Will they make it to Aslan's How? Will Aslan show Himself to the others or was it really just Lucy's imagination. Find out in Chapter 8.**

**Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR**


	8. Her Meeting

Chapter 8 Her Meeting

Sleeping is the easiest and hardest thing to do sometimes, and for Lucy, it was both all at once. She could faintly hear a voice calling her name. Still more asleep than awake, she thought it was her father calling her. But that didn't seem right.

Becoming slightly more awake, but still more asleep than not, she heard the voice again, calling her name. Maybe it was Peter? But, for some reason, Lucy couldn't believe that. The voice was deep, friendly, and very familiar.

Then, all at once, Lucy was completely awake, with no hint of sleep within her. Her eyes watched the Narnian moon above her. She had always loved this moon more than the one back home in England. This moon was much bigger and full of magic.

She felt so peaceful and happy that she didn't want to do anything else but stay cozy lying on her back watching the moon and stars. But then again, she heard her name being called ever so softly, as if only a whisper in her imagination. But somehow, she knew it wasn't.

Slowly, she got up, looking at everyone still sound asleep, and hearing some of them snoring. Ron rolled over, muttering something about gnomes and Snape.

She knew who Snape was. For the entire trek, Ron had gone on and on about how horrid Snape was, and every time he complained Draco would jump in, saying Snape was a wonderful professor. But, thankfully, Draco wasn't awake to argue.

"_Lucy_."

Lucy twirled around, trying to find who had called her name so lightly. Seconds after she had twirled around, she noticed something different. The entire journey had produced a world much like the one at home. No talking animals, no singing and dancing trees, and no magic. But she could have sworn the trees were swaying, dancing and humming before her.

Without glancing back, Lucy walked towards the trees, her heart pounding. She felt so happy that several times she let out a small laugh or giggle. Her feet begged to dance and her lips wanted to sing to the lovely melody she was hearing all around her, as if the wind itself was carrying the tune with it.

When she got to the trees, she could see that they really were dancing, wading through the earth as she would wade through water, gracefully sweeping their branches around and swaying their very selves in rhythm.

As they danced, Lucy walked around them, every now and then, using her hands to either push the branches out of the way or to hold on to them as if to dance. Which one, she wasn't quite sure.

And then finally, the trees ended, dancing behind her, their song much more loud and alive. There, in the middle of a small clearing, dancing trees all around, stood a lion.

Without so much as another thought, Lucy ran to it. The lion was so still that had it not been for the faint twitching of the tail, it very well could have been made of stone. She didn't think for a second, that this lion might be fierce and wild, for all the other animals she had encountered here in Narnia were wild and unable to talk. This lion was different.

"Aslan!" she half shouted, half cried. "Oh, Aslan! I've missed you." The moment she was close enough, she jumped into his soft thick fur and buried her face in his main. "I knew you were here. I knew it."

Aslan looked at her, as if to say why didn't you come sooner.

Sitting up, Lucy sighed, "I told them I saw you and that we should come this way. I really did try, but they didn't believe me. They're all so," but she was cut off by the softest growl she had ever heard.

Looking at Aslan, she suddenly felt ashamed. "I'm sorry. I should have come, even without them, shouldn't I?"

"Much time has been wasted and time is running short," Aslan answered.

"But I couldn't have gone by myself," Lucy tried to reason.

Aslan looked at her, the same look he had given her as she blamed everyone else but her.

"I wouldn't have been by myself since I would have been with you. If I had come sooner, would thing have turned out better?"

"Better? Maybe better, maybe worse. Maybe everything would have been the same."

"Why can't you tell me?" Lucy asked.

"What would have happened is a question that one will never know. But what will happen is easily found out," answered the lion. "Go tell the others to follow me."

"Will they see you this time?" she asked.

"No, not yet anyway."

"You really think they'll believe me?" she asked, worry starting to wash over her.

"There is only one way to find out."

Aslan stood and Lucy started to walk towards the swaying trees. The trees moved out of Aslan's way, bowing low. As they passed, Lucy saw the smallest glimpse of their real selves, their tree person form appearing just like Lucy had seen many times before. But just as soon as Aslan passed, they became nothing but a tree again, but still dancing and singing.

"Go wake the others, and follow me, Lucy."

"I will."

"You are a true lioness."

With a small smile, Lucy ran back to the others. First she tried to wake up Peter, but all he did was turn the other way. Next, she tried to wake Susan. Once Lucy had done so, she told Susan what happened.

"Lucy, you were dreaming. Go back to sleep." With that, Susan yawned, turned over, and did just that.

Then she tried Edmund. After two minutes, he finally woke. Once he was sitting up, the sleep out of his eyes, she told Edmund everything that had happened. When she had finished, Edmund jumped to his feet.

"Aslan! Where is He?"

"Right there, by the trees," Lucy smiled, pointing towards the lion.

"Where?" he asked, searching for Aslan.

"What are you looking for?" asked a voice from behind them.

Ron was staring at Edmund and then where Edmund had been looking.

"Lucy saw Aslan!" Edmund said, exited.

"Aslan!" Without another word, Ron kicked Harry, Hermione, Draco, and Pansy. The last two he kicked a little harder than usual.

When they were all up, Lucy told her story.

"Where?" Pansy asked, searching the trees, her heart pounding.

"Right there," Lucy said, pointing towards the lion.

"There's nothing there," Harry said, disappointed. "Aslan isn't here."

"Yes He is," Lucy argued. "He's right _there_!"

"You're dreaming," Hermione said. "Wake me up when it's morning." Without another word, both Hermione and Harry went back to bed.

"I think she's right," Draco yawned. "There's nothing there." With another yawn, he and Pansy left.

"But Aslan is right there! He's standing by the trees!" Lucy cried.

"If that's true, why can't I see him, too?" asked Ron quietly. "I don't see anything. Do you?" he asked Edmund.

"No, I don't."

"Aslan said you might not see Him," Lucy tried.

"Lu, you're tired. We've all had a long day. You're just seeing an optical something."

"I'm not an optical anything," she said, feeling close to crying.

"Well?" asked Ron, looking at Edmund.

"Lucy, you should stop seeing things. But, last time I agreed with the others and not you, I made a royal fool of myself." Then with a shrug," Guess we'll have to force the others to wake up again."

"Oh Edmund!" Lucy cried, tears of happiness running down her cheek, as she gave her brother a bear hug.

"I'll wake those three up again," Ron said with a dark smile. "I really need something to kick."

**Is Lucy really seeing things or is Aslan there? What will happen next? Find out soon, with chapter 9.**

**Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR**


	9. When Eyes Are Opened

Chapter 9 When Eyes Are Opened

"Six to three," Susan said firmly, in her I'm-such-an-adult way.

"You haven't asked our DLF," Ron chuckled.

"Well?" she asked crossly.

"Well, if I must, I shall follow you on your adventure, but if worse comes I'll be following the High King, as would King Caspian would want. But if we must be going, we should start now instead of standing in place."

"Don't you believe me?" Lucy asked.

"You? Perhaps. But Aslan? I don't tend to believe in things that don't exist. Talking lions I have never seen. Invisible lions I have never heard of. And Aslan has only been in pictures and fairy tales."

"Well, whether you come with or not, I have to go. I must follow Aslan."

"She's crazy!" shouted Susan. "Peter, don't let her. She's being a brat."

"If she goes, I'll go," Edmund said, stifling a yawn.

"That goes for me," Ron added.

"Well, if Ron goes, I'll go," Harry stated dryly.

"Me too," Hermione said with a sigh.

"Five to five," Ron grinned.

"Well, I can't very well let half of us leave and stay behind, now can I?" grumbled Peter. "Well, let's go."

Lucy followed Aslan, all the while realizing how hard it was for the others to believe in something they couldn't see and something that wasn't making any noise. For Aslan, although He was a great lion, made no sound as he walked.

Soon they had passed the trees and were nearly to the gorge's edge. Aslan started walking a bit faster as he reached the end of the solid ground before Him. And then, all at once, He was gone.

With a small gasp, Lucy ran towards the edge where she had last seen Aslan. And once she was standing in that very spot, she saw that it wasn't the end at all, but a rather steep slope, and Aslan was there, waiting. Then, with a smile, she skipped down and out of view from the others.

"Lucy!" Peter yelled out, alarmed since his youngest sister was out of sight.

Moments later she head Edmund's voice behind and above her.

"She's alright. There's a pathway that leads down."

Within a minute, everyone was walking down the steep decline, Susan mumbling to Peter, Draco grumbling to Pansy, and Trumpkin complaining to himself.

"Lucy, what's that?" Edmund ask. He pointed towards a large shadow.

"Why, that's Aslan's shadow, Ed."

"I see it too!" Ron laughed. "Wait, I see…Aslan!" he yelled, running towards the large beast.

But Aslan continued walking, quickening his pace ever so slightly.

"I thought I saw something," Edmund sighed, frustrated at himself for not seeing Aslan.

But he had gone no more than two yards before his face lit up and he ran into Ron and hugged Lucy.

"I see Him, I see Aslan!"

Aslan finally reached the bottom of the gorge, and very carefully, He stepped on stones that rose above the water and when he reached the other side, He bent His head down to take a drink. When He looked back up, a little bit of water dripped from His main.

"Hermione, I see Him. He's across the Rush!" Harry said in exhilaration, a big smile on his face.

"Well, done Lucy," Peter grinned. "You've found the perfect way across."

"Aslan found the perfect way across," Lucy reminded him.

"I don't get it. I don't see Aslan," Peter said.

"You will," Ron said, dragging Edmund across the stones.

"Be careful, Ron!" shouted Hermione. "You can barely swim!"

As soon as everyone had crossed the river Rush, Aslan was on the move again. This time, instead of finding a passageway down, He found a passageway up. Soon, they were all climbing the gorge on the other side, the side they had tried to get to for a day but had failed.

Before Aslan had reached the top, everyone but Susan, Hermione, and the dwarf could see Him.

The moon was starting to disappear as the children reached the top, but it was still bright enough to see by. Besides, the path they were on was fairly easy compared to the path behind them. And then, Aslan was gone.

With smiles on their faces, Lucy, Edmund, Ron, Harry, Draco, and Pansy ran up the rest of the incline, Peter bringing up the rear of the running horde. And there, in front of them, half a mile away, was the Stone Table, Aslan's How.

"Cobbles and kettledrums," muttered Trumpkin. "What a great look-out we've got. By now we should have been challenged. Oh, this will be reported to King Caspian, you bet your…what are you two staring at?"

The moment Susan and Hermione had set foot on level ground, they had both seen Aslan. Their faces went slack and their heads were bowed. However, the rest of the group ran over to what he could only believe as Aslan. For the first time in his life, Trumpkin looked upon a lion, but not just any lion, Aslan.

He stood rigid, fear and foolishness tearing into him.

"Aslan! I'm so glad to see you!" Edmund laughed, hugging the great lion, pushing Ron out of the way to do so.

"Good job, both you Edmund and Ronald." The two boys beamed, next to Lucy.

"I'm sorry, Aslan," Peter said, humbling himself. "I should have listened to my heart. I knew Lucy was right, but, I didn't want to believe her. I wanted to do it by myself. I wanted to prove that I still am High King."

"Stand tall, Peter. You are forgiven, and let this be a lesson that you cannot do everything on your own, no matter how old you become."

"I guess we're in the same boat," Pansy said apologetically.

"We're sorry, Aslan," Draco said quietly. "I'm very glad you're here. I think we all have missed you."

"I know I have," Harry smiled sheepishly. "And, I'm sorry too. I won't doubt you again."

"I know you three mean it," Aslan said with a smile and a gleam in His eye.

"Susan? Hermione?" Aslan asked. "Have you learned your lesson, children?"

"I'm so so sorry," cried Hermione softly. "I knew You were here. I knew it, but. I'm sorry Aslan, and I've learned my lesson."

"So have I," Susan said meaningfully. "I'm so sorry Aslan, and I'm sorry Lucy. I've been horrid to you, haven't I? I'll try not to act too grown up again."

"That's ok. You were just being a brat," Lucy giggled.

"And how is your small friend?" Aslan asked, referring to Trumpkin. "Come here!" He nearly growled.

Trumpkin hesitated.

"Come here!" and this time, Aslan did growl it.

Trumpkin ran shakily over to the great lion.

"And now do you believe, small one?"

"Y-yes," the dwarf squeaked.

Aslan came within a paw's length form stepping on Trumpkin, opened his mouth wide, and let out a terrible roar.

Tears started flowing down the dwarf's cheeks, and he started shivering although he was anything but cold.

"Rise, Trumpkin," Aslan said with a smile.

Trumpkin did so, standing on fish legs.

"Son of Earth, shall we be friends?" Aslan asked.

"Y-y-yes," stuttered the dwarf.

Then Aslan laughed. It was the most joyous sound the dwarf had ever heard, and the children all began to laugh with Him, having heard it a few times before. Aslan's laugh started low as a rumble, but soon became as high as a roar can go, as if Aslan was in song.

Trees shook, the earth seemed to shift, and then, without warning, a wave of darkness rushed towards them. At first it looked like they were all trees, but they soon became creatures both familiar and strange, laughing, dancing creatures, praising Aslan's name.

And at the very moment Aslan ended his laugh, the creatures broke into a sort of game, one that the children never understood, but never forgot, and before long, they all joined in, happier than they thought was possible and feeling as light as air, and as free as the waves on an ocean. For the first time on their voyage, everyone was at complete peace and nothing could dampen their feelings of joy, not even the thought of what was next to come.

**Find out one of the reasons they children were sent to Narnia in chapter ten, The Other Side Of The Door.**

**Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR**


	10. The Other Side of the Door

Chapter 10 The Other Side Of The Door

"Sons of Adam and Son of Earth," Aslan said to the boys and Trumpkin as the joyous sounds became slightly softer, or maybe it just seemed like the sounds became softer once Aslan spoke.

The boys and the dwarf turned to Aslan as he spoke although Trumpkin was shaking again.

"The Moon is setting and dawn is rising, we have little time. You must go quickly to the Mound. You will know what to do when you are there."

"We are going to be dealing with something ugly and possibly dangerous, right?" asked Ron.

Aslan said nothing, but looked straight at Ron.

"It isn't spiders, is it?" he asked weakly.

Aslan chuckled, "If spiders were awaiting you, I would give you a flyswatter, but you have swords. There is no need to fear spiders here."

Ron's face lit up with relief. And not a moment later he looked confused.

"Only Peter and Edmund have swords," he said.

"Are you sure?" asked Aslan.

"Ron, look!" Harry exclaimed happily.

Ron looked down and saw a sheath with a sword's hilt sticking out of it, hanging from his waist. Harry and Draco had swords as well hanging from their middle.

"That's so cool."

( )

It didn't take long before Peter, Edmund, Harry, Ron, Draco, and Trumpkin had made it to the Mound.

"Who goes there?" growled a deep voice.

"Trumpkin," said the dwarf, "bringing the High King Peter, King Edmund, and Knights of Narnia: Harry, Ron, and Draco from long long ago."

Without hesitating, two badgers suddenly came into view from within the shadows, their eyes wide, not with fear but excitement and wonder.

"Finally!" shouted the one who had spoken.

The two badgers kissed the hands of the children, their allegiance obvious.

"Would you hand us a torch, friends?" asked Trumpkin importantly.

"There is one just inside, and it's already lit," said the second badger, bowing low.

"Well, DLF, you'd better lead," Peter said.

"True, we know this place as well as we knew Hogwarts the first time we were there," Ron said.

"Yeah," Draco agreed with a smile. "It took forever to find our way anywhere but the great hall."

"And we only found that because the smell of the food was so good," Ron added.

Harry rolled his eyes, but Edmund laughed.

"You're just like King Caspian," Trumpkin muttered. "Always thinking with your stomachs."

They went under a small stone archway that led inside the Mound. Once in, Peter found the torch and handed it to Trumpkin. As they walked, Ron started clinging to Harry, and Draco started walking too close to Edmund.

"I thought Aslan said there were no spiders," Ron asked hoarsely.

"Yeah," agreed Draco with a small and high pitched sound.

"He never said there weren't any," Peter remembered. "He just said we weren't going to be facing them."

A little while later, the cobwebs lessened and the few bats that had been spooked by the light had flown away, Edmund and Harry noticed carvings on the walls.

"Wow, look at those," breathed Harry. "They look so old."

"And we're older than that," Edmund added in a whisper.

"We're thousands of years old and still good looking," Ron grinned.

"Well, some of us are still good looking, like me," Draco teased, "but you, Weasley, were never good looking."

"If you'd ever looked at a mirror, you'd know you look more like a ghost than a wizard," Ron shot back.

"And I'm still better at wizardry than you," Draco laughed.

The dwarf led them right, then left, down stairs, and left again. After a few moments, they all saw a small beam of light coming under a door. As they neared, they heard loud angry voices coming from the other side of the door. The voices were so loud that no one had heard the children's or the dwarf's approach, which had been echoing throughout the entire trip once in the Mound, since the Mound was pretty much a cave.

"This doesn't sound good," Trumpkin whispered to the five boys. "Maybe we should listen for a small bit."

Peter nodded and all six of them stood quietly at the door, listening.

"You know why the Horn wasn't blown at sunrise this morning," came a voice.

"That's King Caspian who is speaking," Trumpkin whispered.

"You do remember this morning, when Miraz and his army found us and for hours we were fighting for our very lives. I blew the Horn when I finally had the breath to do so."

"How can I forget how my dwarfs endured the worst of the battle? One in five of them died!

"That one's Nikabrik," Trumpkin whispered at the moment's silence that followed.

"How can you say that?" asked Trufflehunter (Trumpkin whispered the name). "We all did just as much as the Dwarfs but none of us did as much as our King."

"Remember it as you wish," Nikabrik stated dryly, "but whether the Horn was blown too late or didn't have magic, help as not arrived! You great clerk, you master magician, you know-all. You surely can't still be telling us to believe in this, to hope and wait for Aslan, King Peter, and all the rest?"

"High," Peter muttered to himself, "High King Peter."

"I won't lie. I'm disappointed that so far no help has shown itself to us."

Trumpkin whispered, "That's the King's tutor, Doctor Cornelius, the half dwarf."

"I'll make this as clear as day," Nikabrik snorted. "You've been found out, your hope diminished, your faith nothing but a fairy tale, your promises broken! That's why…"

"Help will come," finished Trufflehunter. "Be patient like us beasts. Help will come. I will always stand with Aslan, and Aslan said help will come. It may even now be at our door. All we have to do is open the door and let it in."

"Pah! You Badgers would have us wait till the stars fall out of the sky! We _can't_ wait! Food is running too low, we lose more than we can endure with every opportunity, and our followers are rapidly decreasing."

"And why is that, I wonder?" snapped Trufflehunter. "Because someone has let slip that we have summoned the Kings of old and they have not answered. The last words Trumpkin said before he left, and almost most certainly to his death, was this: 'If you must blow the Horn, do not let the army know why you blew it or what you hoped from it.' But oddly enough, that same night the entire army seemed to know."

"You'd better challenge Miraz himself than suggest that I let this slip!" Nikabrik yelled. "You take it back or…"

"Stop it, the both of you!" yelled King Caspian in a strained voice. "I want to know what is being hinted by Nikabrik that we should do instead, but before that I want to know who those two creatures are that he has brought with him with their ears open and mouths shut."

"They are friends of mine!" Nikabrik shouted. "What right has you to be here except you're the friend of Trumpkin and the badger? And what right has the old gowned man to be here except he is your friend? Why am I the only one not allow to bring friends!"

"The King is the very majesty you have sworn your allegiance to."

"Manors, manors, Trufflehunter," Nikabrik started again, "but in this pit we can talk plain and simple. Unless we find a way to help this Telmarine boy, he will be the King of Nothing, King of Nobody, and that doesn't sound all that nice, now does it?"

"Perhaps your friends would like to speak for themselves?" Cornelius said. "You, who and what are you?"

"Worshipful Master Doctor," said a thin whiny voice. "So please you, I'm only a poor old woman, I am and very obliged by his Worshipful Dwarfship for his friendship, I'm sure. You have no need to fear me, majesty, bless your handsome face, a little old woman who is nearly crippled with rheumatics. I have poor little skill, not like yours, Master Doctor, of course, in small spells and cantrips I'd be glad to use against the enemy if all concerned is agreeable. For I hate 'em. Oh yes, none hate better than me."

"That is most interesting and, um, satisfactory," replied Doctor Cornelius. "I think I know what you are now, ma'am. Now, Nikabrik, I'm sure your other friend will give an account of himself."

A dull gray voice answered, making the skin of the children creep.

"I'm hunger. I'm thirst. Where I bite, I hold till I die and even after my death they must cut out my mouthful of my enemy's body and bury it with me. I can fast a hundred years and not die. I can lie a hundred years on the ice and not freeze. I can drink a river of blood and not burst. Show me your enemies."

"His friends must be Slytherins," Ron muttered.

"You filthy," Draco started to curse but Peter's glance stopped him.

"And it is with these two that you wish to tell your plan?" King Caspian asked.

"Yes," Nikabrik answered. "And it is with their help that I wish to perform it"

The boys and Trumpkin heard King Caspian, Trufflehunter, and the doctor Cornelius speak in low voices to each other for a minute or two. Then King Caspian cleared his voice.

"We will hear your plan, Nikabrik."

Nikabrik paused for so long that the boys and Trumpkin started to wonder if he would ever tell his plan.

Then in a low voice, as if he didn't want to say it, Nikabrik began.

"All said and done, no one knows the truth about the ancient days in Narnia. Trumpkin never believed the stories but I was willing to put them to the test. We first tried the Horn, but if there ever was a King Peter, ("High, High King Peter, Peter mumbled.) King Edmund, Queen Susan, Queen Lucy, and those Knights, either they did not hear, could not come, or are our enemies."

"Or they're on their way," added Trufflehunter.

"You can tell yourself that till the stars fall out of the sky. We have tried one link in the chain of old legends and it has failed us. When your sword breaks you draw your dagger, as the saying goes. The stories tell other powers besides the ancient Kings, Queens, and Knights of Narnia. What if we called _them_?"

"If you mean Aslan," Trufflehunter said stiffly, "it's one and the same calling the Kings, Queens, and Knights of Narnia. They were his servants. If he doesn't send them, which He will, will it be more likely that He will come Himself?"

"No, it is not more likely. You're right," Nikabrik agreed, "Aslan and the Kings go together. Either Aslan is dead or He is our enemy. Or something more powerful than Himself holds Him back. And even if He did come, how are we to know if he is friend or foe? He wasn't always a good friend to dwarfs as is told. Not even to all beasts. Just ask the Wolves. Besides, He has only been in Narnia once that I've been told and even then He didn't stay very long. Obviously, Aslan is not of whom I speak of. There is someone else."

A few moments of dead silence filled the air. Not even the listeners on the other side of the door made a sound.

Then King Caspian asked in a low voice, "Who are you thinking about, then?"

"I was thinking of a power that was so much greater than Aslan's that it held Narnia spellbound for years and years, if the stories are true."

"The White Witch!" three voices cried together in shock, leaping to their feet with thuds. It sounded as if a chair had fallen backwards as well.

"Yes," Nikabrik said slowly and specifically. "I mean the White Witch."

**I watched HPDH Part 2, and tada! I finished another chapter. Tune in next time my internet is up and running for the eleventh chapter.**

**Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR**


	11. The Challenge

Chapter 11 The Challenge

"Don't be so alarmed," Nikabrik said. Peter thought it sounded a bit like Susan telling one of them something adultish. "If you have forgotten, the stories all agree that Aslan Himself was slain by the White Witch."

"But they also agree that He rose from the table, the very one that is in here this very moment," the Badger put in.

"Yes, on this very table, the Stone Table," Nikabrik went on. "But oddly enough, after the witch killed that lion, for some reason He just fades out of memory. Nothing much is told about Him after the night the White Witch killed Him."

"Have you gone mad, Nikabrik, or are you just an idiot?" growled Badger. "Aslan defeated the White Witch _after_ she killed Him. He put to place our Great Kings and Queens of old and knighted the Knights of Narnia, all _after_ the White Witch killed Him."

"Or so the stories say. However, there is no proof. We tried Aslan and his Kings, Queens, and Knights of Narnia, but they have not come! So we should try the witch."

"And you think she will be on our side?" spat the Badger.

"Maybe she has not always been good to all beasts, or humans, but she has been good to us dwarfs."

"You actually believe she will be on your side?" King Caspian asked.

"Why wouldn't she? I would have brought her back. She would be grateful."

"But she's dead," Cornelius reminded.

"Oh," came the whiny voice, "you play with an old woman, you Wonderful Dwarfship. You can never kill a witch, for there is always a way to bring them back, if so desired."

"That's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible, Caspian," Nikabrik stated. "You say Aslan defeated death, so why not a very powerful witch?"

"Let the circle be drawn," came the old creepy voice. "Prepare the blue smoke."

"That's treason!" cried King Caspian. "I know what you two are now, a hag and a werewolf. You come here to poison our minds!"

"Put that sword away, boy," Nikabrik nearly whispered.

"Not until justice is done," the king said evenly.

And then all hell broke out. The children and the dwarf heard the table get knocked over and the light went out. Yells and fighting sounds came from the other side of the door.

"What are you waiting for!" yelled Ron. "Open the bloody door!"

"It's locked," Peter said.

"Ouch!" With that, Trumpkin dropped the torch and the light went out.

"Where's that flashlight, Ed?" asked Draco.

"Here," and Edmund switch it on just in time to see Harry, Ron, and Peter break the door down.

"Grab that thing!" Draco yelled as the hag tackled the Badger.

"My flashlight!" cried Edmund as he dropped it and the light went out.

They were fighting in the dark, hoping they didn't hurt or kill anyone on their side. They heard a high pitch scream followed by a deadly thud on the ground. Another scream followed, but this time it sounded more like a boy's. Several people or beasts fell against the wall, tripped over the chairs or table, and fell to the ground. Just as fast as it had started, it ended and silence resumed. The only sound was heavy breathing.

"Ed? You alright?" Peter called.

"Got one, I think," he replied out of breath.

"You stupid idiot! You've got me!" shouted Trumpkin.

"Oops, sorry about that, DLF."

"Who is here?" asked a frightened young voice, but they could tell it was the king's.

"You're a little big to be a dwarf, aren't you?" asked Draco suddenly.

"Bloody hell, Draco," Ron gasped, "stop choking me!"

"Sorry, Weasley."

"Hey, here is your flashlight," Harry said brightly as he turned it on.

The scene everyone saw was quite different than what they had thought. The hag lay dead by the corner, her head a yard away from her body. The werewolf had been slain. The body of a wolf was clear, but the head of a man was bleeding in multiple places. Nikabrik lay dead on the other side of the table, out of site except his feet. Trufflehunter was a few feet away from the hag, Draco still held Ron's neck in his arm; Harry and Peter were back to back, Edmund stood awkwardly next to Trumpkin, and a boy no older than Peter was standing slouched over in another corner holding his arm.

"Are you King Caspian?" inquired Harry.

"Y-yes. Who are you?"

"This is," Trumpkin introduced, "High King Peter, King Edmund, and Knights Harry, Ron, and Draco." He pointed to each boy in turn.

"You're a lot younger than I thought you'd be," King Caspian said with a grin.

"So are you," Ron grinned back.

"Are you hurt?" Peter asked, looking at King Caspian's arm.

"That werewolf bit me, but I'm fine otherwise."

"Well, I'm not," Ron grumbled. "I'm starved. Do you have any food?"

( )

"Thank you again, Trufflehunter, of your unyielding faith in us," Peter thanked. "It means a lot to us to know that Narnia has such devoted followers."

"Do not give thanks to me," Trufflehunter blushed, if a badger can do so. "I am a badger which means I do not forget, for it is mine to remember, and remember well we badgers do. If thanks are to be in order, King Caspian would be proper."

"You are too modest," Peter chuckled, "and I do thank you." He turned to face King Caspian. "And I thank you as well. I know Narnia is in good hands. I have not come to take your place. However, I, er we, have come to help you out. Possibly to be-rid Miraz and his so-called rulership over your country, if you'll let us."

"Of course," King Caspian said. He hadn't spoken much, but seemed to like the children very much."

"Aslan is here, with the girls, and will act on his own time, not ours. We cannot do this without Aslan. I've tried to do things without Him, but it never works. So we will simply have to do what we can and wait for Him to do whatever it is He's going to do."

"Excuse me, but who are the girls?" King Caspian asked.

Ron chuckled, "The Queens and Knights of Narnia. Queen Susan, Queen Lucy, and Knights Hermione and Pansy."

"Well, I think we've got more than what we bargained for," King Caspian said, his eyes lit up. "How can we fail?"

"I thought that way before," Harry said, "but then Slytherin won the Quidditch game."

"Potter, that game was so easy to win. How could you have possibly thought you'd even have the slightest chance?"

"Quidditch?" asked King Caspian.

"It' complicated," Ron answered unhelpfully.

"We're talking but not solving anything," Peter said. "What shall we do?"

"We need to give Aslan time," Harry said. "Doing nothing will only hurt us, but we're not strong enough to go into a battle and have any chance of coming out of it alive."

"Brilliant!" Edmund exclaimed. "We'll challenge Miraz to single combat. One against one."

"Who will be the one from our side?" King Caspian asked, hopefully. "I will gladly do it. He killed my father and I wish to avenge his death."

"I don't think that's the best idea," Ron thought out loud. "I mean, he thinks of you as a kid. There's no way he'll accept."

"We know you're much more than a kid," Peter cut in quickly.

"Perhaps one of us, like Peter?" Ron said thoughtfully. "Don't look at me like that, Harry, you've got to stay alive to piss off Snape and You-Know-Who."

"Who?" asked Trufflehunter.

"_Professor_ Snape, you dolt," Draco drawled.

"Then that's settled," Peter hastily confirmed. "Do you, Doctor Cornelius, have paper and ink with you?"

"Of course, my lord. It would be a crime not to have them with me at all times."

"I'll dictate what you should write. Stop me if I'm saying things wrong. It's been a long while since I've done any Narnian dictation."

"When was the last time you did any English dictations?" chided Edmund. "Never."

After a minute or two, Peter had dictated what was proper for a challenge in Narnia and Doctor Cornelius had written it down perfectly, reread it, and then folded it that way it should be folded in Narnia, in a circle so there are no creases.

"Edmund, you should deliver it. You're very good at stalling and getting your way."

"Ron is good at stalling too, but he'll give in if there's a spider involved," Harry laughed.

"Hagrid never said anything about those things eating us," Ron said under his breath, but he blushed all the same.

"You're so weird," Edmund chuckled.

"So Edmund, perhaps Ron, and two others," Peter said. "What about that giant?"

"He's not very clever," King Caspian said apologetically.

"He wouldn't be a giant if he were clever, would he?" Edmund laughed.

"He looks intimidating and it'll cheer him up," Peter said in the giant's defense. "Now who should be the third?"

"Reepicheep would do well," King Caspian offered.

"He's so small," Draco said. "He's a three foot mouse. They'd step on him before they saw him."

"But he can kill with looks and he is very brave," King Caspian praised.

"We'll get laughed at," Edmund sighed.

"Send Glenstorm, Sire," Trufflehunter said. "No one laughs at a Centaur.

( )

"You're sure they won't kill us?" Ron asked Edmund as they led the way to Miraz's tent, passing sentries and soldiers.

"If they do, it'll show them to be cowardly and disrespectful."

"Do they know giants aren't very clever?"

"They've never seen a giant until they battled them a few times. That's what King Caspian said anyway."

"What do we do now?" Ron inquired as two sentries started walking towards them, their swords at the ready.

"We're going to ask to deliver this challenge to Miraz personally," Edmund said. Then looking at Ron's face he added, "I'll do the talking."

A few moments later, Edmund, Ron, the giant Wimbleweather, and the Centaur stood before Miraz's tent, however, only Edmund and Ron were allowed inside. Miraz looked at them in surprise, but a little bit of fear betrayed him.

"And what is it that you want?" he asked. "I don't think surrender is your business."

"No, it is not," Edmund said. "We have a challenge for you."

Miraz waited impatiently as Edmund read the challenge.

"…Given at our lodging in Aslan's How this XII day of the month Greenroof, in the first year of Caspian Tenth of Narnia."

"Do you accept or decline?" Ron asked as officially as he could muster. He was still frightened about being surrounded by the enemy.

"I will have counsel," Miraz said firmly. "You may wait outside," he ordered.

The boys stood outside with the giant and Centaur. A few seconds later two soldiers appeared and disappeared in Miraz's tent. They looked to be of importance and very possibly had great authority, under Miraz of course.

And then Miraz told them to read the paper. Once read, he asked them what they thought. The first soldier replied saying pretty much that Miraz shouldn't fight because he was too cowardly, but never saying it as plainly as that. The second one gave excuses for Miraz to refuse due to different policies.

The four Narnians heard all this easily because of the thin fabric that separated them.

"It sounds as if they want him to fight," Edmund whispered to Ron.

"How so?"

"They're making him upset in order to trick him into accepting."

After a minute went by, Miraz flung himself outside of the tent and heatedly told Edmund and Ron that their challenge was accepted. He wasn't going to look like a coward in front of his men, but he sure didn't mind looking like a fool. Both Edmund and Ron agreed to that.

"Well," Edmund began on their way back, "Let's tell everyone at Aslan's How the good news."

"It was almost too easy, you know?" Ron asked. "How did a blazing idiot like that ever get control of a country?"

"I have no idea, but if he's anything to compare the coming combat, it's going to be a piece of cake," Edmund replied. "An ugly, but easy, piece of cake."

**I saw HPDH Part 2 again. Inspiration at its best. Tune in next time my internet is up and running for the twelfth chapter.**

**Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR**


	12. Making Plans

Chapter 12 Making Plans

"What's the news?" asked Hermione the moment Ron, Edmund, the giant, and the centaur came into the camp.

"He has accepted," Ron laughed. "The man is mental, completely mental."

Lucy, Susan, and Pansy ran up besides Hermione.

"What did he say?" Pansy asked eagerly.

"He said yes," Edmund grinned.

By the time Edmund and Ron made it up to the Mound, almost everyone had heard the news. Several animals ducked into the Mound to get King Peter, King Caspian, and a few others who were meeting together. When they finally came out, all eyes were turned towards Edmund and Ron, and not a sound was to be heard.

"What says Miraz?" Peter asked, just as tensed.

Edmund's eyes grew bright as he nearly shouted out his answer.

"He accepts. He said yes!"

Cheers erupted, laughter was heard, and not a single person was silent. The entire camp was in a frenzy, hopes held high. Before a minute had gone by, music was being played and many of the beasts began to dance in a circle, many beasts joining in making the circle wider as the festive mood grew. A couple of giants began to sing, although it was very difficult to understand a word they sang due to their tendency to slur their speech.

"We haven't won yet," Draco said softly. "Shouldn't they wait to celebrate until they have a reason to?"

"Let them celebrate," King Caspian said with a smile. "They need this. For the first time, things are looking up. We've been outmatched in every battle, but now it will be one on one, as even as it will ever get. What more could we ask for?"

"Victory," Draco drawled.

"I was thinking more about food, but victory works too," Ron sighed.

"Tonight, we shall feast. Either we win or we lose tomorrow," Peter said. "There's no use in saving all the food. Besides, a banquet would be nice for a change. I haven't had a good meal since England."

"Where's England?" King Caspian asked, curiosity finally taking over.

"It's a whole new world," Edmund said. "You wouldn't like it. There's no way you'd be able to be king yet. None of us would be kings there."

"You're not kings in your country?" King Caspian asked, shocked.

"Sadly, no," Peter replied. "They treat us like children even though we know so much more than they could possibly think."

"We are children," Susan pointed out.

"We're also hungry," Ron added quickly. "Where's the banquet?"

( )

"That is where we agreed to hold the fight," Edmund pointed somewhere on a map, one that the Narnians used for most of their battles.

"And he agreed?" King Caspian asked.

"Yeah, he said he accepted." Ron was staring at the map, trying to figure out what path they had taken to get to Aslan's How from the island they had been on instead of helping with tactics. His stomach growled constantly, the smell of the cooking food only making it worse.

"Well, it's obvious that we'll be on this side, towards Aslan's How," Peter pointed on the map, "and they'll be on the other side. We need three marshals, that's how it's always been." He looked to King Caspian to make sure that's how it was still done. King Caspian nodded. "Good.

"Who will our marshals be?"

"Well, Caspian," Peter said thoughtfully, "you would probably know better than me. Who do you think would be best?"

"Well, the giant, Wimbleweather, and the centaur Glenstorm would do fine."

"What about me, Sire?" came a voice.

Peter looked around the room, trying to find who had just spoken.

"Down here," came the voice again, obviously annoyed.

"Oh?" Peter exclaimed. "Reepicheep, I'm sorry."

"All is quite forgiven if you would let me speak, Sire."

"By all means."

The first time Peter saw Reepicheep he almost laughed. The mouse was no more than three feet tall, but what he lacked in size he made up in spirit, and his unyielding loyalty to both King Caspian and King Peter was unquestionable. And the moment Peter had seen the mouse use his sword, he knew this small critter was worth more than most of the other soldiers.

Of course, they all wanted to know if Reepicheep had been any relation of Mr. Winkle, the children's first friend they met in Narnia during their last visit, before the White Witch had been destroyed. They didn't mean to offend him, but the mouse went on a rant for several minutes about how he is not related to every rat or mouse one might see.

It was then that Peter realized how much pride and honor Reepicheep had stored in him, and it was being displayed once again.

"Sire, if you wouldn't mind, my fellow mice are very distressed, and I think it would do them good if I could humbly offer you my service as one of your marshals."

"I thank you, Master Mouse, but I don't think that would be the best idea. You are by far one of the best soldiers I've ever had the privilege to meet and on any other occasion I would gladly accept your offer."

"Is it because I'm too small?" he asked with a hint of steel.

"Of course not!" Edmund chimed in. "I once knew a mouse no taller than you and he did incredible things. If it hadn't been for him, I'm not sure Narnia would of turned out the way it had."

"Then, I beg you, tell me why I'm of no use to you."

"There are a lot of people who are terrified of mice," Edmund began, "and since Miraz has shown himself to be no more than a coward, he would probably be one of them. Seeing you might scare him into declining the offer. I hope you understand, but you're more than ten times taller than that crazy king could ever be in our eyes."

Bowing low, Reepicheep said, "Thank you, my king, for thinking of it that way. I would never wish to harm any of your plans by my intimidating looks. I shall find another place to be of use."

"You needn't do that," King Caspian laughed. "I have the perfect job for you. You can help us with this planning if you'd like."

With that, the mouse's eyes lit up and his ears stood tall above his head, his tail wagging happily like a dog's.

"I will be ever so honored by your request and I shall do my best."

"But who's our third marshal?" Harry asked. He, Ron, and Draco were standing on the far end of the table.

As if on cue, a small, timid, yawning bear came up to the table.

"It has always been given to the bears, the third right of being marshal, it has," the bear said sleepily.

"You!" Reepicheep shouted. "Why, you're nothing more than an oversized fur coat! And look, you're sucking your paw! You will disgrace us all."

"He's likely to fall asleep," Draco laughed. Harry grinned in agreement.

"Has it been the bears' right?" Ron asked King Caspian.

"I've been finding out a lot about things like that from my tutor, Cornelius. The bear is right." It was obvious King Caspian wasn't excited about it.

"You really want to do this?" Ron asked the bear. For some reason, he felt sympathy towards the poor animal. Ron had felt like the bear on many occasions.

"Oh, yes. I would do anything to make my brothers proud and my king honored, I would."

"You have the right heart, but you must promise not to fall asleep or suck your paw," Peter warned.

"Or embarrass us in any way!" added Reepicheep.

"I would never," the bear said.

"You're sucking your paw right now," Draco sighed.

Instantly, the bear put both paws behind his back, saying, "No I'm not."

"Then it's settled," Peter said, "Our three marshals shall be, the giant Wimbleweather, the centaur Glenstorm, and the bear…?"

"Rumpletin."

"And the bear, Rumpletin."

"We're doomed," Draco said softly. "Too bad we don't have a wolf for a marshal."

"Like Maugrim?" Edmund asked, remembering the chief wolf, one of the White Witch's guards. "Wonder whatever happened to him."

"Maugrim's gold, it's been a story for centuries," a badger said.

At that, Edmund, Draco, Pansy, Harry, and Ron perked up.

"I'm listening."

"It is said that a wolf named Maugrim stole a treasure of such value that it could restore Narnia to her glory days, but the wolf buried it, waiting for his queen to come for him and his prize. Where it is buried, no one knows. And it is only a story. There are no facts to base it on."

"And we're not talking about stories," Peter glared, "we're here to win a war before it's even started. So, please, pay attention!"

"You'll be fighting Miraz," Edmund said slowly, "I'll be on the side lines with King Caspian, Draco, Ron, and Harry, and the marshals will be here, next to us."

"That's the plan."

"You sure you can beat Miraz?"

Peter looked at his little brother, "We'll find out, now won't we?"


	13. As the Sun Rose

Chapter 13 As the Sun Rose

"Susan, Hermione," called Lucy as she raced towards the two girls. They were sitting outside, their backs against the cave wall talking. It was in the early morning, the sun only now beginning to rise, and very few others were up at this early hour.

The two girls looked at Lucy as she ran to them, a big smile filling her small face.

"Aslan has a job for us," she squealed. "He said to meet in the forest behind Aslan's How."

"What's the job?" Hermione asked, jumping to her feet.

"I don't know. He didn't tell me."

"Whatever it is, it's important," Susan said excitedly. "This must be what we've all been waiting for. This must be Aslan's move!"

"Where's Pansy?"

Hermione and Susan shrugged nonchalantly.

"She must be with the boys. Aslan said just to get the girls here. He must want Pansy somewhere else."

"Well, c'mon. Let's go," Susan ordered, and the three girls chased each other to meet Aslan.

( )

"Pansy, wake up," whispered Draco.

The sun was looming over the horizon, the sky pink with the start of the sun's rays.

"Pansy," he said a little louder, trying not to wake up Harry, Ron, Edmund, Peter, or King Caspian.

Pansy rolled over and glared at her fellow Slytherin.

"We're treasure hunting today, Pansy, so get out of bed and hurry up."

"But the battle is today," she reminded him with a yawn.

"So?"

"This is the battle that decides whether Narnia becomes Narnia again."

"And?"

"We can't just go ambling off to find some fabled treasure," Pansy glared, now leaning on her side.

"Then I'll go myself," Draco hissed. He counted to three under his breath.

"Fine!" she relented. "But we better be back in time for the battle."

"We have hours until that starts."

"Draco, if you don't get out of my face, I'll make up lies and tell them to Professor Snape."

With a dark glare, Draco left the room, mumbling insults all the way out into the fresh air.

A minute later, Pansy entered the warm sunshine, a hand on her sword hilt and a small smile as the wind gently nipped at her face.

"Ready?"

"Draco, it's too early to be ready for anything."

"Too early for a treasure hunt?"

"Treasure hunt?"

Both Pansy and Draco twirled around, unaware that there was another being outside, Draco's hand on his sword.

"Potter!"

"Malfoy."

"Spying on us, are you?" Draco spat, letting go of his weapon.

"Stalking."

Pansy rolled her eyes at the two boys. She knew, at least in Narnia, Draco half liked Harry Potter. In Narnia, Harry Potter wasn't the Boy Who Lived, he wasn't special, and no one treated him as such.

"Boys, in case you haven't noticed, the sun is rising. We're losing time."

"It's the day of the big battle! You can't leave."

"We'll be back in time for the theatrics," Draco drawled.

"What treasure are you trying to find?" Harry said finally.

"A magical one. Maugrim's."

( )

"This is the big day, eh?" Ron said, more to himself then to anyone.

Peter awoke first, kicking Edmund awake. Edmund in turn kicked Ron awake, and Ron tripped over Caspian, waking him up as well. Now, five minutes later, the boys were all dressed and waiting for the first brave soul to head towards the armory, making the oncoming battle a reality.

Edmund nodded, his eyes following his brother around the room. It was obvious that Peter looked worried. He had every right to.

"He's twice as old as me, twice as heavy, and a good foot taller," the High King moaned. "What was I thinking?"

"You were thinking of saving Narnia," Edmund reminded.

"I know, I know. I'm just…"

"Terrified," Edmund finished.

Peter gave a grateful look at his little brother.

"When will they be here?" Ron asked.

No one had to ask who "they" were.

"Miraz's army should be here in a couple hours. We have just enough time to get ready. Where's Harry?"

"Maybe he's off with the girls," Ron shrugged.

"I don't know where Harry is, but we should go to the armory," Caspian sighed, leaning against the wall.

"Let's get ready," Peter agreed gravely, and lead the way to the dreaded armory.

( )

"Lu," Susan asked, as she, Lucy, and Hermione entered the forest neared Aslan's How, where Lucy said they were to meet Aslan. "Where is He?"

Lucy stopped and looked around for a moment before laughing. She pointed a little to the left.

"What are you pointing at?" Hermione asked, straining to see what Lucy saw.

"At Aslan," Lucy laughed. "Come on, He's right there."

Susan and Hermione only gave her blank looks.

"Oh, dear," Lucy sighed. "You'll just have to believe me, again. Aslan wants us to follow Him, and I'm going whether or not you two come." And with that, Lucy started running towards the great lion, who was still invisible to the other two.

"I'm not going to make the same mistake we made the other day," Hermione grinned, and she raced off after Lucy, Susan making up the rear.

( )

"This is about where Aslan's camp was," Pansy said slowly, looking at a valley below where she, Draco, and Harry stood.

"It looks different," Harry remembered.

"It's been over a century ago," Draco sneered. "Honestly, you Gryffindors are worthless."

"Draco, be nice," Pansy glared. "If it wasn't for Gryffindors, Slytherins wouldn't have half much fun at Hogwarts. Ravenclaws don't entertain us half as much and Hufflepuffs are too stupid to know when they're being teased."

"Hey! Cedric and Cho are just as good as Gryffindors," Harry retorted.

"Oh, shut up!" Pansy yelled. "Right now we have to figure out where that mangy wolf buried Aslan's crown."

"Obviously not down there," Draco drawled. "He probably would have buried it somewhere near that forest."

"You mean, by the witch's camp?" Harry piped in.

"That forest was a lot smaller back then," Pansy replied. "We'd have to go at least a quarter in before we got to where the forest started last time we were here."

"There's got to be an easier way," Harry tired. "Why can't Narnia let us keep our wands?"

"So we can just say, 'Accio crown'?" Pansy jeered.

"Wait!" Draco cried, excitement overflowing in his voice. "The witch had a wand. What if we find hers?"

"How?" came two voices at once.

"Aslan defeated the White Witch at her camp. Why wouldn't her wand be somewhere there?" Draco tried to explain. "No one has it. If they did, I'm sure we would have heard of it by now."

"So, we're just going to find the witch's camp, a camp that has been in decay for hundreds of years, find her wand, which has also been lost for over a century, and then use it to find Aslan's crown, which is now a fable?"

"Do you have a better plan, Potter?" the pale blond asked, his hands on his hips, looking a little too much like Pansy.

"I'm sure I'd think of something," Harry grinned, reminded of what their DLF kept saying.

"Where was her camp?" Pansy asked suddenly.

"You don't remember?" Draco asked, stunned. "We were held captive there!"

"Things look different," she said in her defense.

"If Aslan's camp was down there, then her camp would be that way-ish," Blondie said, pointing towards the forest.

"Well, let's go," Harry said, trying to hide his excitement. "The battle will start soon and we have to be back to help."

"Last one to the forest is a Gryffindor!" yelled Draco gleefully, as he pushed his way past Harry and Pansy, and raced down the hill towards Aslan's camp and the forest.

Harry clenched his fists as he ran after Draco, yelling, "I am a Gryffindor!"

**Will Draco, Pansy, and Harry find the White Witch's wand or Aslan's crown? Will they make it back for the battle? Where is Aslan taking Lucy, Susan, and Hermione? Will Peter's one-on-one battle with Miraz save Narnia? Find out in chapter 14 (Before the Battle).**

**Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR**


	14. Before the Battle

Chapter 14 Before the Battle

"It's no use," grumbled Edmund. "I can't find them anywhere."

Ron looked grumpily at Peter and King Caspian.

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now," Peter stated. "The battle will happen with or without the girls, Draco, and Harry."

"Last time I fought a battle in Narnia, Harry went missing too. Took forever trying to find him."

"At least he was in the battle. Now he's MIA."

"What's MIA?" Ron asked Edmund.

"Missing In Action."

"He's not the only thing missing," Ron complained. "Where's the food? We were supposed to have a good breakfast this morning."

King Caspian grinned. He felt the same way and soon he was leading the boys to a royal breakfast buffet, fit for Kings and Knights of Narnia.

( )

"The trees are huge!" Harry shouted, as he, Pansy, and Draco made their way through the overgrown forest.

The trees were twice as tall as the three students remembered. This time, however, their leaves were the only part moving.

"They used to dance," Pansy said sadly. "We used to dance with them."

"_We_ did, but Potter can't dance for his life. Didn't you see him trying to at the Yule Ball?"

"With one of those Patil twins?"

"Oh, shut it," Harry glowered. "I don't need to dance. I just have to face the next challenge for the Triwizard Tournament."

"Whatever," Draco grinned.

"Hey! I got past the first two."

"On luck."

"Draco, play nice," Pansy scoffed. "Harry, stop gloating."

A minute went by without the three saying anything. Going deeper into the forest made it easy to forget the coming battle with the Telmarines. It was quiet and peaceful, and for once, they could enjoy it. There was no rushing, even Pansy and Harry had forgotten about the urgency of Peter and Miraz's single combat in only a couple hours time.

The grass was a dark green and grew up to the children's calves. It swayed gently in the soft breeze, and hid small wild rodents and insects. Every now and again, a bird or flock of birds would become startled and fly off deeper into the forest, chiding the children from above, however, they too were wild and their chidings were wasted on the intruders. As the three passed each tree, their hearts yearned for the old days, when the trees danced, rodents talked, and birds sang such sweet songs, making the children sing with them.

"If we didn't go exploring," Pansy whispered, too scared to talk aloud in the quietness, "would this have happened?"

"Even the Kings and Queens of Narnia went back to England," Harry replied, his voice hushed. "None of us meant to, but apparently we were meant to leave Narnia. If Aslan didn't want us to leave, that cave wouldn't have lead us back to Hogwarts."

"Even so," she sighed, "I miss the Golden Age, when we danced and sang and never had to fear the country of Telmar. Things were simple. All we had to do was get rid of the witch, and Aslan did that for us."

"That's _all_ we had to do?" Draco asked, clearly disagreeing with the statement.

"All we have to do now," Harry said dreamily, "is win one battle that we're not even facing. Peter is."

"All we have to do," Draco hissed, "is find the White Witch's wand so we can find the crown. Battle comes after."

"Draco," Pansy asked softly, standing still between the two boys.

"Yeah,' he asked, coming to a halt.

"Do you hear something?"

"Birds, maybe. Why?"

"I don't think we're alone."

Harry turned around and scanned the wood.

"Nothing," he murmured.

"I know I heard something. Something not, not animal."

"Something, human?" Harry asked, his hand going for his sword.

Draco was scanning the forest franticly, trying his hardest to find what Pansy heard.

Then, out of nowhere, all three of them heard it, making them jump and huddle together, all three of their swords drawn.

"No," Pansy answered as quietly as she could. "Something…" but her voice trailed off as the sound drew ever closer.

( )

"Can you see Him yet?" Hermione asked Susan. Lucy was leading the way to Aslan, and Aslan was the one thing that neither Hermione nor Susan could see.

"No," Susan panted.

All three girls were running as fast as Lucy was, racing to meet Aslan. Lucy was half laughing half singing as she made her way to her faithful lion.

And then, so suddenly that it scared the two older girls, Aslan appeared in front of them. His big golden mane shimmered in the sunlight and his great tail wagged gently from side to side. A wonderful smile lit up His face and His eyes danced and sparkled.

"Aslan!" both girls cried, embracing the great lion.

"You two have proven to be true and gallant," Aslan chuckled. "Now, all three of you are to help rave havoc and release a long held captive."

"That sounds like such fun," Lucy nearly squealed.

"Who is the prisoner?" Susan asked.

"Ride on my back and you'll soon find out." With that, Aslan crouched low for the girls to climb up onto his back, then with a small roar, Aslan was off.

As He ran, animals of all sorts, yet all were Non-Talking, ran alongside the Great Lion. Aslan led them towards the right, circling around Aslan's How, making sure He was out of view from the tomb and the creatures there. He ran through the rest of the wood, for it circled around Aslan's How, as if the trees were too frightened to grow so near the tomb, and soon they came to a decline and on the bottom of the decline was the Bridge of Beruna.

Aslan slowed to a stop, all the animals following His lead. There was no one at the river guarding the bridge.

"They must all be getting ready for battle," Hermione whispered.

"Now what?" Susan asked, wondering where this prisoner was they were to rescue.

"What's that?" Lucy asked, "In the water."

Susan and Hermione followed her finger to the water. It was bubbling as if there was something below the surface of the water, and then ringlets formed around the bubbles. And then, something emerged.

It was a head, much larger than a man's, and its head held a crown of rushes. The wet figure sported a long tangled beard and its eyes were sad.

"It's not a man," Hermione whispered. "It's as if the man is made out of water."

"That must be the river-god," Lucy guessed. "I bet we're to rescue him." She didn't know who she knew, but deep in her heart, she did.

As soon as Lucy stopped whispering, the river-god looked at Aslan and a smile flooded his face.

"Oh, Aslan," the river-god said in a deep voice. "Will you unbind me?"

"Always, as long as you ask," Aslan answered. "Deliver him from his chains."

Some of the animals pranced forward and started to vandalize the bridge, kicking off posts and smashing the wood. Then a curious thing happened. Vines started slithering up the bridge from both sides of the river. Then, when they met, the animals hastily made their way off the bridge, either onto land or into the river.

"His chains must be the bridge," Lucy gasped. "Look!"

The bridge was trembling, shaking harder and harder until a splintering sound erupted. With the force of angels, the vines had snapped the bridge in two and were now destroying it piece by piece, to the loud cheers of the animals and the three girls.

"It's the Forge of Beruna again!" Lucy laughed, jumping off Aslan and running into the cold sweet river, many animals already splashing around joyously.

"Susan! Hermione! Come in!" she giggled.

"I am in your debt, my great king, King and Prince of Narnia," the river-god praised, his head bowed.

"You know what you can do," Aslan replied kindly. "If you were to do such a thing as that, surely there would be nothing left in your debt, Great King of the River."

"As you wish it, it will be done."

With a great roar, Aslan jumped the river.

All eyes grew big at what they saw the lion do. Looking behind Him, Aslan laughed a deep wonderful laugh at every face.

"Come, we have work to do," The Great Lion purred. "The town before us needs deliberation."

( )

"Peter, are you sure you're ready?" asked Edmund.

He, Peter, Ron, and King Caspian watched as Miraz's army marched steadily towards Aslan's How, where the single combat match was being held.

"I don't have a choice," Peter breathed, putting on his helmet.

He was already in his gear, sword in hand, as was everybody. Everybody except the girls and Draco and Harry. No one knew where they were.

"Remember, he'll underestimate you at first," Edmund went on. "He'll figure out his mistake soon enough, so bide your time and don't show mercy. He'll have none for you."

"Remember," Caspian added, "by the rules, you can have up to three breaks, about five minutes each. It's not cowardly to use them, no matter what my uncle tries to make you think."

"Any advice from you, Ron?" Peter asked.

"Just what Starr said the last battle we were in."

"What's that?"

"Just don't die."

**What are Aslan and the girls doing? And what dark foe has found the treasure seekers? Find out in chapter 15 (Battles and Magic).**

**Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR**


	15. Battles and Magic

Chapter 15 Battles and Magic

Pansy, Draco, and Harry were hardly breathing, the noise becoming louder and more distinct, but worse of all, it was coming closer.

"Whose there!" shouted Harry, stepping slightly ahead of his two treasure hunting friends. "Show yourself!"

"Only if you want to!" added Pansy quickly. Then to herself, "Please don't kill me."

"You're pathetic," Harry insulted under his breath, forcing his eyes to follow the noise he was hearing.

"You don't want to do that," came a dark rusty voice from behind the three students. "Put down your swords."

Spinning around, the three came face to face with a small, rather unpleasant creature, a Black Dwarf, one of Nikabrik's friends.

"What are you doing, following us like that?" half yelled Draco, furious that a little old dwarf just scared forty years off his life. By the look on Pansy and Harry's face, they felt the same way.

You're looking for something, something I'm able to help with."

"And that is?" Harry asked, lowering his sword, although Pansy and Draco were still feebly clutching theirs.

"You're looking for a fabled crown, a crown Aslan Himself wore centuries ago. But, as you three already know, there is only one way to find that gold besides digging up the whole of Narnia."

"Which is?"

"The White Witch's wand."

"Then, dwarf," drawled Draco, now lowering his sword, "how do we find that? Dig up this whole forest?"

"That's one way to do it, but there is a better way."

"Why would you want to help us?" Pansy asked. She was the only one with her sword still fully drawn. "Dwarves don't naturally like helping out."

"Let's just say, we have a common purpose."

"Which is?" Draco spat. This stupid little dwarf was annoying the hell out of him.

"Riches and fame, boy."

"I'm not merely a boy!" Draco raged, drawing his sword. "I'm a Knight of Narnia!"

"Dying now would ruin the happy ending," the dwarf snided.

"What do you want?" Harry asked stiffly.

The dwarf's guarded expression now turned to one of eagerness. He turned his bright eyes to meet Harry's, an iniquitous smile crawling across his features, sending chills to the children.

"Let's just say, I have a little proposition for you."

( )

Miraz, or now rather, King Miraz, walked stiffly to the square that had been staked specifically for this type of combat. The square wasn't very big, but then again, it didn't need to be. As long as the two had room to fight and move about a little, it was large enough. Besides, with the square being a little on the small side, Peter wouldn't have many places to run. And yes, Peter, some stupid king of some stupid country would run, and would lose, and Miraz being merciful, would kill that spoiled rotten king of old and win everything.

"Sire, we know what to do if things are getting out of hand," Glozelle said. He and Sopespian were to watch the battle, and if, by chance or dumb luck the battle looked ill for their king, they were to sabotage the battle by claiming Narnia had cheated. And since they had a Narnian arrow, the plan would work perfectly.

"Good. Don't fail me now," King Miraz ordered as he walked to the square, leaving his two generals in the two far corners.

As Miraz walked to the square, Peter, Edmund, Ron, and Caspian watched. He had brought well over three thousand soldiers with him, all armed and ready for combat.

Peter glanced behind him. The Narnians were also ready for a fight. Battle plans had been drawn up. Not as Plan B but as Plan A. Caspian was sure somehow it would come to another large battle. Narnia would be destroyed if Miraz had his way, and Caspian wasn't going to let that happen.

"Hey," Ron said, bumping into Edmund, "those two generals, they were at Miraz's camp when we went to deliver the challenge."

"They were the ones who got Miraz to agree," Edmund added. "Pete, they've got something up their sleeves."

"Guess that's your job, Ed," Peter grinned. "While I'm battling Miraz, you make sure those two," Peter pointed to the generals Glozelle and Sopespian, "don't commit treachery."

"Ready?" King Caspian asked.

Peter nodded and his three generals followed him to the square. The giant Wimbleweather, the centaur Glenstorm, and the bear Rumpletin, who despite all his warnings, was sucking his paw again, stopped at the closer corner of the square.

"Stop that!" fussed Glenstorm.

"What?" asked Rumpletin.

"You're sucking your paw!"

Rumpletin looked embarrassed and hid his paws behind his back.

Miraz and Peter met at the center of the square. Neither shook hands or exchanged any words, but a hush fell over both armies. It was the unmistakable calm before the storm.

A voice rang out loud enough so the crowd could hear. "This is to be a fair fight, a battle between only two, King Miraz and King Peter."

"High, High King Peter," Peter said under his breath.

"There will be no help from either side and all rules shall be respected."

As the voice stopped and the deadly silence filled the air once again, Miraz sneered at Peter. The two eyed each other, both moving ever so slowly clockwise.

And then it began.

( )

You want to bring the White Witch back!" Harry yelled.

He and the two Slytherins had listened to the dwarf's proposal. It was outrageous.

"There is only one practical way to finding what you seek. We must bring back the witch, and with her gratitude, she will grant us one wish."

"So we just say, 'Hi. Remember us? We just brought you back and now we'd like your wand.' I doubt things will go that well," Draco mocked.

"The White Witch wanted us dead," Pansy reminded. "Why would we want to bring her back?"

"The Queen of Narnia forgives and forgets," the dwarf lied. "She may not have always been good to you humans, but she has always been good to us dwarves."

"That's because you were on her side!"

"And who's side are you on?" the dwarf shot back. "Aslan's? Where is your precious lion now? He's gone. Not here. I haven't seen any lion in my life."

"We have," Draco countered coldly. "Aslan is real and He will help us."

"You believe in fairytells, in fables. What I have to offer you is truth, fact. If you want the goods you must be prepared to pay the cost."

"If we do bring her back," Pansy began hesitantly, "what will she do to us? How will we get her wand?"

With a small chuckle, the dwarf replied, "You need only ask."

"How would we bring her back?"

"Oh," said a new voice, "it would be easy, my dear, oh so too easy."

The children spun around, this time to face a hag. The hag looked very similar to the one the boys helped kill the day they met King Caspian.

"Circle, circle!" the hag cried.

The dwarf drew a circle, bending the grass in a perfect "O".

"Blue smoke! Blue smoke!"

Instantly, the dwarf and hag began chanting in a language the children had never heard before. As they chanted, their voices grew louder, and the dwarf pulled something out of his pocket. It looked like dirt or powder, and as he rubbed it between his fingers a blue smoke started to appear where the dirt or powder fell.

"Blood!" squealed the hag. "Blood from an innocent!"

"A drop of blood will do the trick," the dwarf said, as he slowly drew his small dagger.

"Whose blood?" Pansy asked in a small voice.

"Yours."

The dwarf seized Pansy, held out her hand and with his dagger, made a cut that drew blood. He held her bleeding hand over the circle. As the blood touched the ground, the blue smoke became thicker and thicker.

"Queen of old! Queen of new! We have a request of you. Queen of ash! Queen of snow! Tell us where to go. Queen of splendor! Queen of great! We ask and then we wait! Oh, great Queen of Narnia, White Witch of long ago, come back to us! Come back to us and bring with you gold!"

As the hag finished the song, it threw dust into the air, and then everything became cold.

Pansy was gasped, letting her breath float softly away, when she saw ice form between two trees. As the ice thickened, a silhouette began to appear. As the figure became more prominent, it was clear who was looking back at them.

The White Witch, the fake queen of Narnia.

"Daughter of Eve," sounded a sweet voice. It sent chills down every spine and flooded Draco's mind with memories. "Do not be afraid. Give me your hand, my dear princess."

The dwarf pushed Pansy closer to the wall of ice and the witch within.

"Stop!" Harry yelled, jumping in front of Pansy. "Leave us! You're dead!"

"I am a witch, am I not, Son of Adam," the witch reasoned. "There are always ways of bringing a witch back."

Harry stood frozen in front of the witch, his blood turning cold the longer he looked into her eyes.

"Give me her hand so I can be brought back."

"Never!" he croaked.

As Harry tried to yell his answer, he involuntarily stepped backwards, bumping into Pansy and causing her to fall.

"Don't waste time!" the witch demanded. "Bring me back and you shall have your reward."

Harry tried to say something, but all that came out was gibberish.

As he tried to say something, anything, Harry felt pain in his right hand. Looking down, he saw a slice on his hand and fresh blood slowly oozing out of the wound.

"Good, good," cooed the witch as Harry was pushed slowly forward by the dwarf. "Just a little closer."

"Harry!" yelled a voice, but it sounded so far away, so distant, that it couldn't be important. The only thing important was in front of him, the White Witch. His blood would set her free. He could almost feel her outstretched hand.

"Stop!"

Again the voice was so far away, so insignificant. Her eyes watched him. Her smile welcomed him as an old friend, but her eyes, they were cold and dark.

And then, the spell broke.

Harry found himself beside Pansy, thrown back into reality.

"Aslan beat you once, He can do it again," Draco quietly threatened.

"You play with me, dear boy. My dear, dear boy."

"I'm not merely a boy!" he yelled, raising his sword. "I'm a fricking Knight of Narnia!" And as his last syllable ended, he pushed his sword into the witch's stomach, driving it as far as it would go. He heard her scream and felt her fear.

"I'll give you whatever you seek!" she tried.

But Draco didn't listen. He avoided her eyes and stabbed the witch again, this time in her heart.

"I'm a queen!" the witch cried. "I'm the Queen of Narnia!"

"You're the Queen of the Damned," Draco said evenly, and then with a small grin, he stabbed the witch once more.

The wall of ice erupted, throwing Draco backwards. He watched as the ice wall shattered, pieces of ice flying through the air and turning to dust. He watched as the wind took it and blew it away.

"What happened," Pansy asked weakly, her eyes still a little blurry and her face as pale as snow.

"What did you do!" screamed the hag. "What did you do!"

Without hesitation, Draco beheaded the hag with one swift movement, then stabbed the dwarf. Within seconds, the two traitors lay dead on the ground, their blood on Draco's sword.

"What did you do?" Pansy asked, a little frightened. "Why did you kill them?"

Draco cleaned off his sword, thinking of what just happened.

"The witch," Harry began, "She was right there. She, she talked to me, made me feel…"

"Lost" Pansy completed. "Lost and never wanting to be found."

"Get up," ordered Draco, trying to clear his head. "I know where to find the Maugrim's treasure."

"Where?"

"I'll never forget that tree. We were tied up right over there," Draco answered, pointing to three trees only a stone throw away.

"How do you know those are the right trees?" Pansy asked irritably. "We're in a bloody forest!"

"The witch told me. I don't think she meant to, but she made me feel something, something I felt the first time I heard Aslan's name. I kept thinking of Him, and I remembered not to look into her eyes. Somehow, I know where the crown is because I know where she died. She died right by the trees."

"You're not making any sense," grumbled Harry.

"I know. It's just a feeling."

"Where is it?" Pansy asked, looking at her hand.

"By the Bridge of Beruna!"

**What is Draco talking about? Will they find Maugrim's Treasure at the Bridge of Beruna? Find out in chapter 16.**

**Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR**


	16. Treachery

Chapter 16 Treachery

The clang of sword meeting sword, the smell of sweat and blood, the sight of two kings, one a man of middle age, the other a boy not past seventeen, and the rising uncertainty all mixed together and created an anxiety Edmund or Ron hadn't felt since their first real battle, the battle between Narnia and the White Witch.

"Caspian," Ron whispered, "you never said how good your uncle was with a sword."

"I didn't know," was all Caspian could manage.

Looking toward the King of Narnia, Ron noticed his rigid stance.

"I never said your uncle was better than Peter. No one is as good a Peter."

Caspian gave a weak grin, flinching as Miraz's sword came crashing down on Peter's shield. He heard Peter give a small cry before attacking.

It had been going on for a minute, maybe a little longer, but already the two kings were tired, their desperation the only thing driving them forward.

Peter shoved Miraz sideways, trying to unarm the king of Telmar, but Miraz was too strong and too clever. No sooner had Peter lunged than Miraz twisted around with reflexes as fast as light and ducked Peter's shield. Peter tried to spin around to face Miraz in time, but before he'd gone halfway, Miraz brought his sword down on Peter's back, forcing the High King of Narnia on the ground.

With a loud war cry, Peter rolled away from Miraz and jumped back on his feet, thankful Edmund had made him wear dwarf-made armor. His shield arm was killing him, his back hurt, and his head was making things spin slightly. Over all, Peter felt horrible, but not enough so to give up. He would die before he saw Narnia taken away by a man as crazed as a rabid dog.

"Focus!"

Peter heard Edmund's order not a moment too soon. His eyes caught a glint of something coming towards him and he jumped backward. Miraz was right on top of him, and before a second had passed, the two were fighting methodically, Miraz taking a blow then giving a blow.

Peter was glad how much he'd practiced with the sword against not just Edmund, but Ron and Caspian as well, trying to remember his winning tactics that won him Narnia and her territories.

Peter's moves complicated and started quickening, finally advancing on Miraz and forcing him back towards his generals. Miraz tried to block each blow but had no room to give one. Just before Peter was able to free the sword from the man's hand, Miraz moved closer to Peter, letting Peter's blow land on the side of his shoulder instead.

Then, with a mighty yell, Miraz grabbed Peter's armor and pushed him downwards. As Peter hit the ground with a crash, Miraz prepared for the kill and drove his sword to the boy king of Narnia.

But Peter was ready, and as the sword neared, Peter sat up and grabbed Miraz's arm and pulled himself up, pushing Miraz away at the same time. Evidently, that startled Miraz, who just stood there dumbly, but before Peter's next blow could connect, Miraz got back his senses and ducked, aiming a powerful blow to Peter's right leg. Peter stumbled backwards, his face grimacing in pain.

Before Peter could put up his shield, Miraz dealt a blow to Peter's right side by his chest. As the force drew Peter back to the ground, Miraz advanced, raising his sword high above his head. But before he was finished raising his sword, Peter's legs tripped the Telmarine who quickly fell to the floor, only a few feet away from the High King.

"Peter rolled to his stomach and got up on one knee. Suddenly he was aware of shouting, much like a crowd shouting at a professional game. They must have been cheering the entire time, he thought. He heard the Telmarines shouting encouragement to their king and insults at their enemy. The Narnians were doing much the same, only their jeers were less and their encouragement more.

As Peter rose to his feet, he saw Miraz, still on the ground but now on his stomach. Peter waited for the Telmarine to get to his feet. Although he wanted to end the fight, to win Narnia, and hail Caspian the King of Narnia, he knew Aslan would want nothing less than a fair fight.

"Peter! I said show no mercy!" he heard Edmund yell. "You dolt, get ready!"

As Edmund yelled this, Miraz was finally getting to his feet, his face screwed in a tight scowl and his eyes dark with hate. Peter eyed the man, taking in as much as he could. Miraz was tired, weakening, but he was still strong and dangerous. He was breathing heavy, but not winded yet.

The two circled each other warily, watching for an opportunity to strike first. When the opportunity came, they both attacked at the same time, their swords clashing and their shields protecting. Then Miraz's sword swung low, causing Peter to jump backward. As Peter landed on his feet, Miraz swung his sword again at Peter's head.

Peter easily blocked it with his own sword, then used his shield as a weapon, knocking it against Miraz's helmet and forcing the dazed man back. This time, Peter didn't wait for him to recover. He attacked, but soon Miraz recovered and tried to use his own shield as a weapon. But Peter saw it coming before it happened and was prepared. With all his strength, Peter ran into Miraz, letting the shield connect with his shoulder and making Miraz's sword slice thin air.

With a cry, both kings fell to the ground, Peter on top of Miraz, but no sooner had they reached the ground than Miraz rolled on top of Peter, his knee keeping Peter's shield pinned to the ground.

"Peter!"

He didn't know who had yelled his name, but Peter wasn't about to give in, not with the sound of his Narnians yelling for their High King. Peter blocked several blows, his shield still pinned down, and then, unexpectedly, Peter's sword nicked Miraz's armpit where the armor didn't protect.

As Miraz fell off of Peter, clutching the underside of his arm, Narnia cheered so loud it drowned out the Telmarines completely. But soon the Telmarines cheered just as loud as Miraz's shield came down on Peter's and the fight continued.

No one was sure what exactly happened, not even Peter or Miraz, but as they fought, they both pushed each other away with such force they nearly tumbled backwards. They both managed to stay on their feet, but it was obvious neither could breathe well.

"Rest," asked Peter, loud enough for Miraz alone to hear.

Miraz glared at the boy, but he nodded his head and both kings limped back to their generals.

"What happened?" asked Rumpletin, sucking his paw again.

"First rest," glared Glenstorm.

As the centaur cheered loudly, the bear followed suite, and then all of Narnia cheered.

Peter sat down heavily on a chair beside Edmund and Ron.

"That was some fight," Edmund smiled, helping Peter get his shield off.

"Yeah. He's strong as a mule, and just as heavy," Peter panted.

"How bad is your arm?" Edmund asked once he got the shield off.

"It hurts. I can move it a little, but when he pinned down my shield he sprained my arm. He'd already hurt it a minute in."

"Drink this." Ron handed a silver cup to Peter.

After two minutes, Peter stood up, trying to work out some of the kinks in his bones.

"Smile," Ron reminded. "Narnia is watching."

Peter turned around to face his soldiers and smiled big, raising his sword above his head. As a cheer broke out, Peter turned back to face his brother, Ron, and Caspian.

"I don't know if I can do this," he admitted softly.

"Of course you can, Pete," his brother answered. "You're doing just fine. Keep him on his feet. Make him dance. Wear him out. He'll be winded soon enough."

"Ed," Peter began, "you're my only brother, and I suppose I can be rather hard on you. I'm sorry."

"Save it," Edmund chuckled. "I'll tie your shield on."

"What happens there, if you die here?" Peter continued softly. "If I don't make it,"

But Edmund didn't listen and tied Peter's shield on tight, cutting Peter off.

"I said save it," Edmund whispered. "Now go out there and save Narnia. As long as Aslan is for us, no Telmarine can stand in our way."

"Easy for you to say," Peter grumbled. "You're not fighting him."

"Oh, get a move on!" Ron ordered. "Miraz is already heading back."

Nodding, Peter entered the square again and walked to Miraz.

As both kings met, another hush fell over the crowd.

Ron sucked in a breath.

"Welcome to round two."

( )

"Draco," Harry yelled as he, Pansy, and Draco ran through the forest. "You're acting like Ron or Hermione!"

"It's not like you to run through a forest!" Pansy agreed. "You're mental, Draco. Mental!"

"We're almost there," Draco panted, a smile on his face. "The Bridge of Beruna isn't far now."

"How do you know the crown is there?" Pansy asked again.

"The witch had a thought, a feeling as I stabbed her. She, in a way, told me where she died, and then, somehow I just knew where the crown was. It's by that bridge…"

"We haven't been to that bridge," Pansy shouted. "I've never seen that bridge, Draco. And neither have you!"

"The witch, she knows."

"You killed the bastard!"

"I know it doesn't make sense," Draco yelled back. "Just trust me!"

"You're not Lucy!"

"No, I'm a Malfoy!"

"That's reassuring," Harry muttered. "Let's trust a Death Eater. Sounds like fun. The bloody idiot will get us killed!"

It didn't take long before the three were standing by a river, the River Rush.

"Here's a familiar sight," Pansy said sarcastically.

"It's the Rush," Draco laughed.

"Are you sure you're Draco?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Potter, you're so rude."

Draco looked across the river. It looked quiet and still.

"Isn't there supposed to be a bridge?" Pansy inquired, crossing her arms.

"There was," Draco said, pointing to the ground near the water. "It was torn down, and recently by the looks of things."

"And where is this crown?"

"On the other side," Draco said, wading into the water.

When the three climbed up the other side, Draco sat down, musing over a large footprint.

"That is a huge print," Harry laughed. "Wonder what made it."

"Aslan did, of course."

Pansy and Harry stared at their fellow Knight of Narnia.

"Should I ask how you know that?" Pansy sighed.

Ignoring her, Draco stood up and looked around.

"Aslan's prints lead that way," he said, pointing a few yards downstream.

Draco followed them, careful not to step or smudge any of Aslan's prints. Pansy and Harry watched closely as he walked a few yards away, his eyes peeled to the ground.

"You guys," Draco called out softly. "The tracks disappear. It's as if Aslan just apparated."

"Can He do that?" Harry asked.

"Of course He can!" Pansy answered; shocked that Harry would ask such a stupid question. She never once thought of him as a clever wizard, but his stupidity even surpassed that of Dumbledore at the moment.

"Aslan wants us to find it," Draco drawled slowly. "But where exactly did that wolf burry it? Where is He leading us?"

Pansy sighed in frustration and Harry sat down gloomily next to her.

"I'm acting like a Gryffindor!" Draco yelled suddenly.

"Finally the Draco I know is back," Pansy frowned, still irritated.

"Searching for a lost crown, following a lion's prints. I'm being so stupid."

"You still are," Pansy pointed out.

"I don't have to look for the crown! I don't have to follow footprints! I know where it is!"

"He isn't back," grumbled Harry.

"Draco Malfoy!" Pansy shouted. "Stop acting like some, some, Muggle! You're freaking me out!"

"We need shovels," Draco said breathlessly, ignoring Pansy and Harry.

"And where are we going to find shovels?" Harry asked dryly.

Draco grinned as he looked towards a town that lay a small ways from them. "That looks like a good place to start."

( )

"That has to hurt," Ron grimaced.

Peter had just been hit in the face my Miraz's elbow. As Peter slightly turned around he had blood running down his cheek and lips from his nose.

"Oh yeah," Edmund laughed half heartedly, "that hurt him all right."

The first part of the single combat had been spent feeling each other, find out their strengths and weaknesses. Now was a different story. Miraz was careful with Peter. He knew by now how good Peter was, and at times, it showed upon his face. He would not underestimate the High King of Narnia again. Peter, on the other hand, knew better than to challenge Miraz in strength. Miraz was too strong for Peter to outmatch him that way. But Peter was more nimble on his feet and a little faster. There was still hope for Narnia as long as Peter kept Miraz moving.

"I thought it was a fight, boy!" shouted some of the Telmar army. "We want a fight, not a dance!"

"He better not listen to them," Caspian said.

"Not Peter," Edmund replied. "He knows when to ignore things like that. He knows what his prize is and no one can take his eyes off it."

"Miraz is the prize?" Ron asked, stepping into Caspian on accident while Peter took another blow, this time to his chest with Miraz's shield.

"How did you become a knight?" Edmund teased, rolling his eyes, but his face was turning paler and paler as the fight became more vigorous and intense.

Peter and Miraz clashed again, their swords stuck together, each one trying to push the other down. For a moment it looked as if Miraz was winning, but then, out of nowhere, Peter used his body to force the king backwards.

Miraz stumbled a few steps and that was all Peter needed. He ran to the Telmar king and shoved him with all his might. As the king, again, stumbled backwards, he swung his sword wildly, his shield at his side.

Peter used his own shield to disarm Miraz, but Miraz's shield hit Peter in the arm then chest. Peter stumbled backwards this time and Miraz used the same trick to disarm Peter.

The two armies were yelling and jeering louder than ever. Miraz's two generals were watching the battle intently, but no fear showed on their face. In fact, they seemed to enjoy how the battle was going. Caspian, Edmund, and Ron, however, were paling and huddling together as manly as they could.

"Now what?" Ron whispered.

Peter and Miraz were circling each other, keeping an eye on both swords. Then, at the same time, they both went for their swords, and with a cry, both kings crashed their swords together. Soon they were in the heat of battle, their swords going faster than their eyes could follow. They were relying solely on instinct.

Everything was becoming a blur. Faster and faster they moved, harder and harder they bore into each other, quicker and quicker their blades went. Now Peter was again moving around the circle, forcing Miraz to chase him.

Again, they were caught in heavy combat, their swords with a will of their own. And then, so suddenly that both sides gasped, Miraz took a step away from Peter and let his sword fly towards Peter's chest. Peter ducked just as the blade passed his head.

Miraz now used his shield to knock Peter over, but Peter rolled to the ground and in the same movement, he rolled himself back to a crouched position, waiting for Miraz to follow through with his attack.

Miraz did not disappoint. He charged Peter, his sword flying up to meet Peter's, but Peter was more than ready. He thrust his sword high in the air and brought it down on Miraz's own sword. At the same time, Peter used his shield to hit Miraz on his sword arm, then again on the side of Miraz's head.

Miraz came down to the ground hard, Peter standing over him.

But Miraz wasn't done yet. With one last effort, he brought his sword upward toward Peter, but Peter slammed his shield into Miraz's hand. With wide eyes, Miraz along with both armies, watched as Miraz's sword sailed into the air, then landed with a clang by the end of the square.

"On your knees," Peter commanded quietly.

Miraz obeyed, his face looking up at the boy who had bested him.

"Do it, and spare me the humility."

Peter paused.

"Do it!" Edmund shouted.

"Do all Narnians fear blood, or just their kings?" Miraz sneered, realizing that Peter wasn't ending his life.

Peter raised his sword to a killing position.

"No Narnian fears blood, just injustice. I cannot take you life, for it is not mine to take."

Peter lowered his sword and turned his back on Miraz. He walked to where his brother, Ron, and Caspian stood.

"Watch out!" Ron yelled.

Peter spun back to face Miraz, his sword ready. As Miraz lunged at his competitor, Peter's sword drove into his belly. Miraz's eyes widened and fell instantly to his knees.

As Peter withdrew his sword, Miraz gaped at the young king.

"King Caspian," Peter said firmly. "This is your decision and your decision alone."

Peter handed Caspian his sword, the very sword Aslan had given Peter centuries ago.

Caspian took it, his eyes wide. He looked at his uncle.

"You are not a king," Miraz spat. "You're scared. I see it in your eyes."

As Caspian walked over to his uncle, his face turned from fear and surprise to anger and justice. He stopped in front of Miraz and raised Peter's sword.

"Maybe I was wrong," Miraz spoke softly, fear running through him.

"You were wrong," Caspian replied. "You were wrong to kill my father. You were wrong to take over Telmar. And you were wrong about me. I am a king."

With that, Caspian drove his sword downward. But to the surprise of all, especially to Miraz, the sword missed the defeated king and instead landed an inch away from Miraz's head.

Caspian grinned, "I'm a King of Narnia."

Caspian stepped back and then turned to his people.

Never had Narnians cheered so loud. Never had they felt such hope and pride. Never had they seen such justice and honor shown. Not since the Golden Age.

"King Caspian! Long live the king. Long live King Caspian!" the Narnians yelled.

Caspian saw a grim grin on Peter's face. As Peter nodded, Caspian knew he'd done the right thing. A king of Telmar would have honorably taken the life. However, he was king of Narnia. And a King of Narnia would honorably let that life live.

"That has shown all of Narnia what kind of king you are," Peter said, putting a hand on Caspian's shoulder. "I'm proud to have you alongside me even more.

Both kings smiled at each other, but their celebration was soon halted as Miraz fell to the ground, a Narnian arrow sticking out of his back.

Peter's face fell and Caspian spun around, his heart pounding.

"No," he gasped.

"Treachery!" yelled one of Miraz's generals, waving his sword in the air. "Narnia has done treachery! To arms and to revenge!"

"Narnians!" Peter shouted, reacting instead of thinking. "To arms! Treachery has been done!"

The generals and kings pulled out their swords, Ron following a moment late, still shocked at what was going on.

"To war!" cried the Telmarines.

"To war!" cried the Narnians.

"For Narnia!" shouted Peter, "and for Aslan!"

Then both armies charged.

**Where is the crown? What happened to Miraz? Will Narnia fall to Telmar? Find out in chapter 17.**

**Courtesy of both C. S. Lewis and JKR**


End file.
